


The Business Of Second Chances

by TheLibranIniquity



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e24 Oia'i'o (Trust), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLibranIniquity/pseuds/TheLibranIniquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five-0 is in pieces. The team regroups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my take on what happens after the s1 finale, and is sort of my wishlist for season 2.

Two weeks and four days after he is arrested for Jameson's murder, Steve stands at the front gate of Oahu Community Correctional Center, wearing civilian clothes and masking a limp. He squints in the harsh sunlight and doesn't make eye contact with the guards as he walks out into a changed world.

o o o o o

The precinct is awash with activity, uniforms and detectives alike swarming everywhere, filling the spaces recently vacated by Kono Kalakaua, soon to be charged with conspiracy to commit theft among other related crimes, and Steve McGarrett, the man Chin has just arrested for Governor Jameson's murder.

He feels sick to his stomach just thinking about the sequence of events that led up to his arrival in Jameson's office, and what happened after. The dazed look of shock on McGarrett's face is not something he's going to forget any time soon.

From an interview room, a detective Chin doesn't recognise leads Kono by the elbow towards the holding cells. It's clear from the detective's posture that he believes the Kelly Curse has finally caught up to his young cousin, or that perhaps the dark side of the Governor's mandate for her task force has finally caught up with all of them. Its leader is a murderer, the rookie a thief, the _haole_ has no reason to stay in a place he hates now with his daughter back on the other side of the country, and the stray has a place at HPD that is believed to be neither warranted nor deserved. Jenna is the only one to escape unscathed, but she has her own demons, and the night is still young.

Chin closes his eyes briefly, and heads for the Captain's office. The door is ajar, and the man who had given Chin his Lieutenant's badge only a few hours before looks surprised to see him again, so soon.

“Good work bringing McGarrett in,” is his opening parry.

Chin stands in front of the Captain's desk and folds his hands behind his back. “Who's taking the lead on the investigation?”

The Captain shakes his head. “Too soon to tell. HPD can claim jurisdiction having made the arrest, but the island's federal field offices are going to want in as well.”

Chin nods. “Give me the case.”

“That breaches every impartiality code there is, and a few besides,” the Captain says. He narrows his eyes and stares up at Chin. “Give me one good reason I should allow a former member of the Five-0 task force to investigate his former boss for murder.”

_“This is your ticket back into the game. Call it payback, call it whatever you want, I don't care. But I need you.”_

_“How do you know you can trust me?”_

_“Because my old man did.”_

“Lieutenant Kelly?” the Captain prompts.

Chin brings himself back into the moment. “He gave me the second chance that no one else did,” he says. “Not even HPD. If he's guilty, then I get absolution from associating with him.”

The Captain raises an eyebrow. “ _If_ he's guilty?”

“Innocent until proven guilty. That's another impartiality code around here, right?” Chin's taking pot shots now, but he doesn't care.

“Your loyalty,” the Captain begins, clearly choosing his words as carefully as Chin had, “is commendable. But I can't officially allow you anywhere near this case. Not unless you want to be the shortest serving detective in the precinct.”

Chin's jaw stiffens of its own accord.

“Even if I wanted to – which I don't,” the Captain continues, “I can't give you this case. Can't let you within a ten block radius.”

Chin gets it; of course he gets it. He was always a cop, even when he wasn't allowed to be. “Of course,” he says, and walks out of the office, through the precinct and straight out of the front door.

Danny is waiting for him on the sidewalk. There is a rant forming in his stance and expression and the way he draws up and out from himself when he sees Chin.

“Don't,” Chin tells him. When Danny's mouth opens, he places a hand on Danny's shoulder and pushes him in the direction of the Camaro, parked a little way behind them. “Not here.”

He pushes Danny into the passenger seat and takes the keys off him without thinking. Danny is obviously used to the routine, and takes the passenger side, tension and anger and a dozen other, nameless, things rolling off him in waves.

Then, without warning, he slumps forward. “This cannot be happening,” he mutters.

But it is.

Chin drives. A few minutes later he pulls up outside the Five-0 headquarters. _“Without Steve, there_ is _no Five-0.”_ Police and federal agents are still streaming in and out of the building, some carrying boxes and parts of tech, and from the relative safety of the car Chin and Danny watch them. 

After a few minutes Chin sees someone push through the wall of law enforcement and step outside. It's Jenna; she's clutching a backpack and looks terrified, but she marches towards the Camaro and climbs into the back. No one seems to notice her, or if they do they've already written her off as irrelevant.

“Drive,” she tells Chin.

He does, and it takes less than a second to decide on a destination.

o o o o o

Steve spends the first night in a holding cell at HPD. There are two heavily armed guards outside his door, and likely another half dozen between them and the next one. The lights are harsh, and he can hear the distant hum of voices; cops and lawyers alike doubtless debating who gets first crack at the supposed murderer of the Governor.

The revelation of her betrayal is like an ongoing punch to the gut. He'd trusted her, taken her at face value even after he'd learned of her ties to Hiro Noshimuri. And she'd played him all along, like a marionette. He hadn't seen it because he hadn't wanted to, hadn't given himself the capacity to even consider her complicit in Wo Fat's plans. Whatever the hell they were.

Steve knows he didn't pull the trigger, or blow up Laura Hills, but a part of him knows he's guilty.

o o o o o

“First things first,” Chin says. “We need to make sure we're here for the right reasons.”

'Here' is his house, living room furniture pushed to one side and a makeshift conference area set up in the middle. Danny and Jenna stand around the coffee table, facing him.

“Steve McGarrett is a great many things.” Danny is the first to speak. “But a cold blooded murderer of a civilian, _he is not_.” Those last three words are directed at Chin, who knows he deserves them. He continues, soberly: “And besides, he told me once I wasn't as alone in this place as I thought. I owe it to him to return the favour.”

Chin looks at Jenna. The newcomer has none of the ties to Steve or Five-0 that the rest of them have; her only link to any of them is through Wo Fat and her fiancé's murder.

But she's nodding. “Danny's right. I mean, why would he kill the Governor? It doesn't make sense.”

“That's what we have to find out,” Chin says. He looks between his two remaining team mates in turn. “This is off the books, way off the reservation. Anyone outside this room finds out what we're up to, we'll probably end up in the same place as Steve.”

“What about Kono?” Jenna asks.

Chin closes his eyes briefly. “I don't know. Best case scenario, she loses her badge.”

Jenna's eyebrows climb. “And worst case scenario?”

“She loses her badge and her freedom,” Danny replies. “Presumably she's the only one HPD can tie to the ten million dollars otherwise we'd be down there as well.”

“We can't help her right now,” Chin tells Jenna. Much as it pains him to even think about it, it's the truth. “We have to focus on proving Steve's innocence.”

“Then we'd better get to work,” Jenna says. She reaches for her backpack and pulls out a laptop and a brown envelope, which she upends, and maybe a dozen flash drives spill out across the coffee table. It's far from the conference table and networked computers at Five-0, but it's better than nothing.

o o o o o

Kono leans against the wall of her holding cell, and wonders what would have happened if she'd turned down McGarrett's 'extra credit' assignment all those months ago. What would have happened if she'd taken up the offer of the coaching position at Coral Prince after she'd completed physical therapy on her knee.

What if, what if, what if. She made her decisions, all of them, on her own, and she can't bring herself to regret any of them.

Especially not the ten million dollars, and the memory of Chin collared to a bomb.

Kono closes her eyes, and thinks about the ocean.

o o o o o

While Jenna single-handedly turns the first floor of Chin's house into a war room, Rachel calls Danny. Chin hadn't been aware of all the details before, but overhearing half a conversation he manages to piece it together. He listens as Danny begs and pleads with Rachel to stay in Newark and let him still speak to Grace, tries to explain without devolving into an argument that he owes Steve more than anyone could ever know.

Chin fights back the sudden weight on his chest. He'd argued the same thing with Malia once, pushed her away as HPD bore down on him, and look where that had left him. He can't offer Danny the wisdom of experience, not only because their experiences were vastly different, but because Chin understands he still hasn't truly learned from his own actions. The details of Danny's situation complicate things even more. Chin isn't sure whether he's supposed to give Danny and Rachel's affair his blessing or disapproval, but more than that he knows he's better leaving it alone unless it becomes an issue.

He leaves Danny in the kitchen and joins Jenna in the living room. She's got the laptop set up, has connected it somehow to the Five-0 servers and is writing labels on the flash drives in minuscule handwriting. She looks up as Chin sits beside her on the couch.

“Your move next,” she says. “If we're going to investigate the Governor's murder on our own, we need physical evidence, right? Some kind of evidence, and I don't think they're exactly going to let us into the mansion, or into Steve's place, or -”

Chin agrees. “What can you access from here?”

Jenna frowns. “Everything I wiped from the main Five-0 servers when you and Danny told me to. I created back ups -” she indicates the flash drives, “- of everything I thought was important enough and deleted as I went. The evidence from Steve's dad's toolbox, proof that Laura Hills...” she breaks off again. “Laura Hills,” she says.

“There's our link to the Governor,” Chin realises. “She's who Steve's dad was investigating. Her, and her links to the Yakuza.”

“And Wo Fat.” Jenna's voice is low.

Chin tries to piece the evening back together. From standing in front of the Captain and accepting the Lieutenant's badge, to walking Steve out of the Governor's mansion it's all disjointed in his mind, like he'd been on autopilot. The outlines are blurred and all he remembers clearly is seeing Jameson's body, and Steve on the floor on the other side of her desk, dazed and disoriented, and -

“Steve's phone.” Chin looks at Jenna. “Steve's phone was on the desk in front of the Governor's body. No reason for it to be there -”

“Unless he was in a call with someone?” Jenna wonders.

“Or he was recording something,” Chin finishes the thought. “Like the Governor. What if he was trying to get her to confess?”

“Then the file would still be on there.”

“HPD bagged the phone.” Chin shakes his head. It's physical evidence and he couldn't access it even if the Captain was sympathetic to his situation. Which he already knows he's not.

But Jenna's already grinning. “Trick I learned from a friend at Langley,” she says. Her fingers start to fly over the keyboard. “Steve's cell is on a contract, right?”

“Of course.” Chin can't see where this is going.

“And he's...” She cocks her head to one side for a moment. “Paranoid?”

“What are you thinking?” Chin sits beside her on the couch so he can see the laptop's screen as well.

Jenna turns to grin at him. “Electronic backup, either on Five-0's servers -”

“Or somewhere else Steve has access to,” Chin finishes the thought. “Can you find it?”

“One way to find out.”

Chin relaxes all of a half-inch while Jenna works and hacks and breaks probably half a dozen cyber-security laws. While she's tracing Steve's electronic footprints, Danny comes through from the kitchen and perches on the arm of the couch on the other side of Jenna from Chin. His face is pinched and he looks tired.

“How is she?” Chin asks, not bothering to hide that he knows who Danny was talking to.

Danny shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. “Jet lagged. Staying at a motel.”

Chin chooses his next words carefully. “Is she coming back?”

“Not yet.” Danny makes a point of watching Jenna work for a few seconds. “What are you looking for?”

“Whatever Steve was using his cell phone for in the Governor's office,” Chin explains when it's clear that Jenna either hasn't heard a word being said, or is simply ignoring everything.

“So we're working on the basis she was dirty.” Danny huffs. “Well, crap.”

Something like that, but Chin keeps the thought to himself.

“Guys.” Jenna gestures at the laptop with clawed fingers and a frustrated expression. She looks from Chin to Danny and back again. “This could take a while.”

Chin reaches out and touches her shoulder lightly. “We'll get there,” he tells her. “Together.”

She doesn't look convinced, but she nods, and behind her Chin can see Danny do the same.

o o o o o

The following morning Steve is transferred to the correctional facility where the pre-trial inmates are housed. He knows this because he's sent a few dozen criminals there over the last eight months. He's informed that a JAG lawyer will meet him at the Center, and that the Navy has officially waived their right to detain him in a military facility, and the investigation will be conducted by HPD and not NCIS. It's all politics, and he can't bring himself to care.

HPD aren't gentle with him during the transfer, and Steve supposes he can't blame them. There's nothing worse than a soldier – or cop – going rogue, and for all her criminal ties, Jameson had been hugely popular with the public before Wo Fat had shot her.

He gets a brief glimpse of daylight between HPD and the prison truck and wonders what his team are doing, and whether they're safe – either from the Yakuza or the public's backlash.

o o o o o

Jameson's death blankets the news. The breakfast coverage alone is enough to make Chin nauseous. Anchors who only a week ago had been fawning over Lt. Commander McGarrett's latest take-down of a high ranking criminal were now gleefully discussing the details of his moral breakdown and utter betrayal – the amount of speculation really shouldn't be surprising given how very little had been released to the media in the first place. Laura Hills' death has been all but subsumed by Jameson's demise; Chin only hears her name mentioned once, already relegated to a footnote in this macabre saga.

“My mom called this morning,” Jenna tells him over coffee – from the wide-eyed looks she's been giving the mug in her hands, Chin suspects it isn't her first of the day. “She wants to know why the hell I'm still here.”

“What did you tell her?”

Jenna shrugs. “That I had something I needed to do. Something stronger than duty, or holding my not-mother-in-law's hand while she cries.”

 _Ohana_. Chin blinks back the sudden swell of emotion.

“Oh, don't worry,” Jenna tells him, misinterpreting his expression. “I'm still officially on a leave of absence from the CIA. They won't come kicking in any doors for a while yet.”

Chin huffs, and Jenna winces. “Bad choice of words,” she decides. “Have you heard anything about Kono yet?”

“No, and I doubt I will. I don't have that many allies inside HPD.” Chin's not sure he even has that.

“You've got us.” Jenna offers him a wan smile.

To his surprise, Chin smiles back. “Yes, I do.”

Then his cell phone rings and breaks the moment. “Kelly.”

 _“Time to start working that new badge of yours, Lieutenant,”_ the Captain tells him. _“Got a case.”_

Chin blinks. “Okay...”

_“Dead body at a private marina. Come by the precinct, I'll give you the details. You're going to need a partner.”_

“Detective Danny Williams,” Chin says without hesitation.

 _“Yeah, that's what I thought.”_ Apparently the Captain's on the same page as him – although why there's a page in the first place Chin hasn't figured out yet.

“We'll be right in,” Chin says.

 _“See that you are.”_ The line goes dead.

“What was that about?” Jenna asks, frowning.

“I'm not sure.” Chin gulps down the rest of his coffee. “But I have to go. Are you going to be all right here on your own?”

“Sure.”

Chin's already thinking about public backlash and revenge attacks and everything he went through when IA took his badge off him before. “I mean it,” he says.

Jenna meets his gaze and holds it. “So do I,” she tells him. “I'll call Danny, let him know you're on your way.”

Chin doesn't bother with the questions, just nods and leaves to get his gun and badge.

Half an hour later Danny's waiting outside his apartment complex when Chin pulls up on his bike. His clothes are clean, but dishevelled, and though he's wearing aviator sunglasses Chin can see the exhaustion written all over him.

“This doesn't feel right,” he comments, leading Chin over to the Camaro.

Chin knows what Danny means. Logically he knows the roads and highways of Honolulu haven't changed in the last twenty-four hours, but it hasn't stopped him feeling like he's been traversing an alien landscape this morning. What had started with the news broadcasts had spilled over to the absence of morning traffic and the way everything seemed just slightly off-kilter.

The whole of Oahu is a crime scene, and Chin and Danny are guilty by association, regardless of action or context or whether Steve is actually guilty or innocent in the first place.

Chin knows better than to let it get to him. He still remembers the immediate aftermath of IA and the way he'd been afraid of leaving his house the first day without his badge. He also remembers the way he'd boxed all the fear and uncertainty into a small box marked _'Shit Happens'_ and left it somewhere in the recesses of his mind, only to be reopened in times of inebriation and total self-pity. He'd been innocent of the charges then, and he knows instinctively that Steve is innocent of the charges now.

Danny silently drives them to HPD, and Chin leads him through the swell of uniforms and detectives, all of them unsure what to do with the strangers in their midst. Most of them clear a path, like they're unwilling to come into direct contact with McGarrett's former pets, and there's an undercurrent of murmurs, but it's nothing that Chin hasn't learned to ignore already. He hopes Danny is capable of the same.

o o o o o

The first shank appears while Steve is still cuffed to the transfer officer. He twists and ducks as much as his restraints allow and snaps the sharpened toothbrush in half with his right ring and little fingers. The officer he is attached to whacks him in the side for his trouble, and the prisoner who had tried to stab him is tackled to the ground by a correctional officer, albeit inefficiently, cuffed and dragged away.

“I give it a week,” the HPD officer mutters, uncuffing himself from Steve and backing away.

“Ten days, tops,” another correctional officer replies. He shoves prison scrubs into Steve's arms, and Steve realises they are discussing his life expectancy.

He bites back the response that he's faced worse odds, and takes the instinctive reply – as well as his awareness of and reaction to the shank – as proof that he's physically recovered from the night before.

As long as he can keep himself mentally on his game, he thinks there's a chance he'll outlive the fledgling betting pool.

The prison scrubs chafe, and the full body inspection is deliberately degrading, but Steve once broke into, and then out of, a prison in Yugoslavia. He allows himself to be cuffed again and then led down a stark grey hallway to an interview room where he's told his lawyer will meet him.

Lieutenant Tamsin Aldershot looks barely old enough to enlist, let alone have a law degree and an officer's commission, but Steve is willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Not that he has a choice in the matter. He's been arrested for the murder of a high-ranking civilian official – Steve thinks he should feel lucky the Navy didn't bypass JAG and have some really wet behind the ears public defender sent down here instead. 

To her credit, Aldershot doesn't brim with optimism. “This doesn't look good for you, Commander,” are her opening words.

Steve stares at her.

“You've got motive, means and you were found holding the still-smoking gun,” the kid continues. “HPD forensics from both your house and person, and the Governor's mansion, are pending.” She folds her hands on the table between her and Steve, and leans forward. “Did you kill Governor Jameson?” she asks.

Steve blinks. His memories of last night are disjointed with blank spots where he's not used to having them. Every flash of the Go – Jameson's office is accompanied by disbelief and anger and the cold feeling that had appeared in his gut when he realised he'd been played from the start. “No,” he eventually says. It's the first time he's done more than confirm his name since Chin arrested him.

Aldershot studies his face for a moment. Then, apparently satisfied, she leans back in her chair. “Exoneration will go a long way towards salvaging your military career,” she says. “I'll see what I can do with HPD.”

She gathers up her things and leaves. As reassurances go, Steve's heard more convincing ones before, but just like Aldershot had apparently seen something in Steve's face, Steve thinks he saw something in the kid's face. The young lieutenant is on his side, at least for now.

A few minutes later Steve is escorted away from the interview room and toward the sounds of general population, all of whom take almost military stock of Steve as the room falls silent around him. His position – former position – at Five-0 will make him a highly appealing target to most, if not all, of the men in here and he unconsciously straightens his back and tightens his posture before moving through the crowd to find somewhere to sit.

He gets a lot of dirty looks, but more that are carefully guarded and even deliberately blank. On the far side of the room are the payphones and the inmates using them continue their conversations after giving Steve a cursory once-over. He has to concentrate to hear what they're saying, and thinks he recognises code words and phrases for monetary transactions. 

He occupies himself for the rest of the afternoon classifying the inmates by gang affiliation and severity of crime based on what he remembers from Five-0 and HPD case files and the slivers of tattoos and other markings on exposed skin.

Steve knows that once he can figure out the correctional centre's internal hierarchy and social system then he stands a better chance of surviving.

He just doesn't know what he's surviving _for_.

o o o o o

The crime scene at the marina is being operated by a skeleton crew, none of whom look happy to see Chin and Danny.

The feeling is mostly mutual.

Chin doesn't recognise the woman in HPD forensics scrubs crouching over the dead body. She's not one of Max's team, nor one of the lab rats he's been introduced to through Kono's friend Charlie. That means she's either been flown in from one of the other islands or she's from the university, maybe putting her degree to practical use in the current emergency.

“What have you got?” he asks her.

She glances up at him. “Chinese male, mid to late-thirties with what looks to be two gunshot wounds to the chest; small calibre, nothing fancy. He's been dead maybe six hours, but he wasn't killed here.”

“Do we know who he is?” Danny asks. He kneels down beside the victim's head and peers downwards to the entry wounds.

The tech shakes her head. “No ID.”

“Any chance we can get fingerprints to run, maybe even dental?” Danny chances.

She shakes her head again. “Priority's Jameson's case. Everything else gets short shrift.”

Chin frowns slightly. She doesn't sound accusatory – she doesn't sound particularly anything, which is... given the last twenty-four hours it's unexpected to say the least. He's not sure what to do with this information, but Danny beats him to the punch.

“You look kind of familiar,” he says to the tech. “Have we worked a case together before?”

“No.” The tech offers Danny her hand. “Claire Sanden. I transferred to the university about a month ago. I teach, mostly.”

Danny cocks his head at Sanden. “Well, we're grateful for whatever you can give us,” he says, surprisingly diplomatic.

To her credit, Sanden simply nods. “I'm not sure whether to be grateful you're out here doing your job or offer you something to shield yourself with,” she says, jerking her head at the two uniformed HPD officers glaring daggers at the back of Chin's head.

Chin wants to ask why it doesn't bother her that she's been pulled from a lecture theatre to work a crime scene with two cops associated with the presumed murderer of Governor Jameson. On the other hand, he's never tried to tempt fate before, and doesn't see why he should start doing so now.

Like Danny said, Chin's willing to take what he can get right now.

But Danny's frowning at the body again. “What is it?” Chin asks.

“I don't know.” Danny shakes his head. He leans right in over the man's face and peers intently at the facial features.

Chin waits.

“I think I recognise him.” Danny looks up at Chin, his eyes wide and his expression a cross between shocked and uncertain. Behind him Sanden looks curious.

“Who do you think he is?” Chin asks. 

“He's Yakuza.”

o o o o o

Kono charts her course within ten minutes of being left in the all women's jail. She doesn't bother with the holding her head high shit – she's a cop in jail. More than that, she's a cop in jail for something she _did_ do and would do again a hundred thousand times over. Next time she'd even do it better.

She catches the pros looking her up and down like fresh meat and doesn't break eye contact until they do.

Physical attacks are a whole other matter. She stays on high alert, and maps the inmates around her like crests of a wave.

o o o o o

“Are you sure?” Chin asks. The gang affiliation would change everything – if that's who the dead man was involved with.

Danny nods, and looks back down at the man's face. “From the bike club. I can't be sure, but I think he was there.”

He must have been doing something memorable for Danny to be able to pick his face out months after the fact, but Chin trusts Danny's instincts. That trust is, in itself, an instinct.

“It can't be retaliation,” Danny says. “Or a punishment.” He pulls a face and runs his hands through his hair several times, breathing deeply and loudly. “I can't think straight. I'm not even close to thinking straight.”

“We'll figure out the motive,” Chin tells him. “As well as get a definitive ID on him.” He looks at Sanden. “Where are you going to do the autopsy?”

“I've got a couple of labs at the university,” she says. “Enough space to handle him and keep students away.”

Chin nods. “Let me know when you get the bullets out,” he tells her, because he's supposed to say that and he's in danger of becoming like Danny, liable to trip over his thoughts and tongue and he can't afford to slip like that.

Sanden nods, and starts packing her gear. One of the uniformed officers reluctantly steps over to help her bag the body and get it into the back of her truck.

“Do you think this is connected to what happened last night?” Danny asks after the truck disappears around a corner.

Was that all it was? Chin had arrested Steve barely half a day ago and it already felt much longer than that. “If it is, it's happening very fast.”

Danny cocks his head. “Too fast?” he wonders. “Okay, let's at least try and approach this with something even remotely resembling rational thought.”

Chin makes sure that the two HPD uniforms are far enough away, but drops his voice anyway. “Steve claims Wo Fat shot the Governor and framed him.” Conjecture until proven otherwise, no matter how much he hates that notion.

“But how that connects to a possible Yakuza hit?” Danny's expression resembles the ones he's accused Steve of having in the past when he came up against something he didn't like. “The timing is too close to be coincidental, Yakuza or no.”

“We need that ID.” Chin starts walking back to the Camaro, where the Captain's file is still sitting on the front passenger seat.

“Back to HPD?” Danny wonders. “Captain didn't say anything about where we worked this case, so long as we did.” He sounds hopeful now.

Chin can't imagine either of them being flavour of the month at the precinct even with a legitimate case to work on.

Danny sinks onto the driver's seat and stares morosely at the wheel. “No chance of forensics, no witnesses and no chance of co-operative police or other law enforcement officials to share the burden. How are we supposed to solve this one?”

“By the book.” Chin doesn't know what else to say. “Well within procedure, not a foot wrong -”

Danny lets out a loud sigh. “Ma did always tell me to be careful what I wished for.”

At that, Chin laughs. “Back to my place,” he directs Danny.

They might as well be comfortable while they're trying to pull off the impossible, and they're almost home when Chin's cell rings. It's not a number he recognises. “Kelly?”

 _“Detective Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly?”_ a female voice asks.

Chin frowns. Beside him Danny tenses up but keeps his eyes on the road. “Yes. Who is this?”

_“Lieutenant Tamsin Aldershot, JAG – Judge Advocate General. Lawyer – that is, I -”_

“You're Steve's lawyer,” Chin guesses.

 _“Yes,”_ Aldershot replies, audibly relieved.

“What's going on?” Chin asks instantly. “Can you tell us anything?”

 _“We need to talk, Detective.”_ Aldershot's voice is steadier now, more assertive. _“You and the rest of Commander McGarrett's former team.”_

Chin bites back the immediate response – there's nothing _former_ about any of them, yes, Steve and Kono are in jail, but he's trying to do what little he can and there's a CIA agent camped out on his sofa and Danny who could have flown home with the family he always wanted but chose to stay instead and – he stops himself.

“When and where?” he asks, and is surprised at how steady his voice sounds.

_“As soon as possible – you name the place.”_

Chin gives her his address, and Aldershot promises to be there within the hour, and then hangs up.

“Steve's got a lawyer,” Danny comments after a few seconds' silence. “Speaking of things that are fast.”

“She's military. Navy, I'm guessing.”

Danny glances over at him quickly. “Think she's on our side?”

“I don't know.” Chin hopes so. He really, really hopes so.

He gets his first chance to find out less than thirty minutes later, when a knock on his front door makes Jenna jump and Chin barely has time to wonder what her day alone has been like before he opens the door with half an idea to have a gun ready and half a mind telling him to quit being so damned paranoid.

Standing on his front doorstep is a young, female Navy lieutenant – late twenties at a guess – with flame red hair pulled tightly behind her head and wearing impeccably pressed dress blues, her hat tucked under her left arm.

She sticks her hand out. “Lieutenant Aldershot, JAG – we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, we did.” Chin shakes her hand and steps aside to let her in. “This is Detective Danny Williams and -” he hesitates, unsure whether to bring Jenna's CIA affiliation into play.

Fortunately Jenna saves him the decision. “Jenna Kaye,” she says, stepping forward. “I sort of... freelance for the team.”

“I see,” Aldershot nods, then adds, addressing both Jenna and Danny: “I'm Lieutenant Tamsin Aldershot – I've been assigned to represent Commander McGarrett in any criminal proceedings he'll face in the investigation into Governor Jameson's murder.”

“He didn't do it, you know,” Danny tells her.

“I know,” Aldershot says, which gets everyone's attention.

“And how you know that?” Chin asks carefully.

She looks him straight in the eye. “He told me.”

“You have deception detection training?” Jenna asks, visibly interested.

“No,” Aldershot says – but she doesn't elaborate.

She might not have to – just the fact that she apparently believes in Steve's innocence is enough for Chin to want to trust her, at least for the moment. There are other, somewhat more pressing matters, though “You said you needed to speak to us immediately,” he prompts.

“Why the rush?” Danny asks. “No, really – I mean, this case is less than twenty-four hours old and already Steve and Kono are in jail, you're here and the media witch hunt is well and truly under way.”

“Expediting circumstances,” Aldershot tells him. And yeah, that much is obvious, but it still doesn't explain the breakneck speed of everything, or why Chin's not been able to get so much as an answered call out of HPD forensics or even why there's a dead man with possible Yakuza ties making his post-mortem début less than a day after Steve and the Governor – both with Yakuza ties of their own – had had their confrontation over Laura Hills' death.

Danny rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah,” is all he says. “So have at it, Lieutenant. What do you need from us?”

 _And what do we get in return?_ Chin ignores the thought with some difficulty and focuses on what's right in front of him.

“Anything you can give me on what happened last night,” Aldershot replies immediately. “HPD is stonewalling me, and -”

“Welcome to the club,” Danny interrupts. Chin looks sharply at him, but Danny just shrugs and adds: “It's true, _brah_. We are the very definition of _persona non grata_ , even you with your shiny reclaimed badge, and can you really blame them?”

“Maybe you should save that rant for a later date.” Jenna interrupts him – and is probably the most surprised that she's the one who did.

It is entirely to his credit that Danny simply nods and holds his hands up by way of surrender.

“We're still trying to piece together what happened in the Governor's office together,” Jenna tells Aldershot. “It's not easy, though – you're not the only one the department is stonewalling.”

“Can you show me what you have so far?” Aldershot asks – and Chin finally identifies the look on her face. It's the same expression he saw on Kono's in those first few months of Five-0 being formed. The rookie in over her head, but determined to see herself through regardless.

For the first time, Chin wonders what the Navy's game is, sending a kid in a military uniform into the growing hotbed this investigation is rapidly becoming.

Jenna glances at him to gauge an answer to the lieutenant's question, and Chin nods. 

All they can do right now is take her at face value – treat her like an ally.

Before Jenna can say or do anything else, having seemingly commandeered the remnants of Five-0 as well as Chin's living room, his cell phone rings again. “Kelly.”

_“It's Professor Sanden, Detective – you and your partner need to come to my lab ASAP.”_

o o o o o

Steve's first night in jail goes something like this. He's been subject to no further attacks since the lone shank at his initial entry into the jail facility, and in the hours since has monitored multiple covert, non-verbal communications between groups of inmates and groups of correctional officers. He doesn't know the meanings of all the expressions and gestures, but it's not unreasonable to assume that a proportion of them relate to him in some way.

His cell is small and standard – downright luxurious compared to some he's seen and been kept in in the past, and there are no signs of long term residents on either of the bunks.

He takes the top.

Two minutes after he is escorted (pushed) into the cell, Steve is joined by a second inmate. His first instinct is that wires have been crossed somewhere in the judicial system, because the inmate looks barely old enough to be in high school. He could be a teenager being charged and tried as an adult for his crimes, which in itself suggests something more dangerous than the crimes he supposes the majority of the other inmates in the jail are suspected of.

This theory is instantly discarded when the kid notices Steve and immediately begins to panic, eyes widened, hands trembling and backing as far away from Steve as he possibly can in the confined space.

Steve's first instinct is to spare him the trouble of graduating to hyperventilation. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

The kid actually squeaks.

Steve tries not to sigh, or run a hand over his head. He succeeds on the latter count. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he repeats, slowly and in a low register. He's considerably bulkier than the kid, with an easy half-foot on him – he's not going to bother pretending he doesn't intimidate him.

“Fine, suit yourself.” He pulls his legs onto the narrow bunk and lies down, only briefly glancing down.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as the kid takes minutes to slowly approach the bunk, still twitching and trembling – and never once taking his eyes off Steve. He stops directly next to the bunk frames and stares up at Steve with wide, dark eyes and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead before darting out of sight with a single burst of concentrated movement. In the darkness and relative silence – it sounds like the party is just getting started for some of the inmates in Steve's section – the kid's breathing is loud, but jagged, like he's having a panic attack and can't control himself.

Steve lies there, trying to make the pieces fit against each other, and a moment later hits an epiphany – where he's seen those symptoms and physical tics before.

The kid's a drug addict – and he's in withdrawal.

o o o o o

Chin stares at the handwritten report in his hands. Sanden's TA had met him and Danny in the campus parking lot and whisked them through a maze of buildings almost before anyone could recognise them, leading them to her offices before strolling off with a petulant expression on his face. A small part of Chin can't blame the kid for that – it's not every day your boss-slash-teacher gets a fresh corpse to work on for the local PD and you don't get invited to watch.

The victim's ID is still inconclusive, neither proving nor disproving Danny's Yakuza theory -

“- but the ID's not important,” Sanden says from the other side of the cadaver. “What is important is how he died.”

There's a twitch at the corner of Danny's mouth – but he controls the instinct to make a smart remark, and instead asks: “How do you mean?”

“The bullet trajectories.” Sanden indicates the entry wounds with a pen. “Close range and from an upward angle.”

“He was killed by a giant?” Danny opines.

Chin frowns, and suddenly he gets it. “He was sitting down when he was shot.”

“Yes,” Sanden replies.

“From fairly close range, and -” _The Governor slumped in her chair, entry wounds bleeding, and Steve – Steve disoriented on the ground but climbing to his feet, holding a recently fired gun and -_

“What?” Danny asks. “What is it?”

“He was murdered in the exact same way as the Governor.” Chin stares down at the body. “Shooter was standing up, victim was in a chair – we can use this,” he says breathlessly. “We can use this to prove -”

“- that Steve didn't kill the Governor?” Danny's expression is carefully neutral. “How?”

“Professor.” Chin tries desperately to organise his thoughts, and thinks he can get this out right. “How closely can you narrow down the time of death?”

She shakes her head. “Between four and six this morning?” she replies. “It's Hawaii – decomp doesn't work the same way here as in the textbooks.”

Four and six. “Steve was in custody then,” Chin says – carefully, because the words matter. “He was in an HPD holding cell waiting to be transferred to the jail. Murder weapon.”

Sanden runs down a list of likely sidearms used to kill their John Doe. “Steve's gun,” Danny says. “The one he was found with, anyway.”

“Evidence lockup.” Chin shakes his head – then he looks at Danny. “We need to talk to the Captain.”

Danny's already got his cellphone out, and stares at the display for a second before waving his hand at Chin. “This might be better coming from you, oh newly reinstated Lieutenant,” he says, without a hint of irony.

He's probably right, though. Chin fumbles in his pocket for his own cell, and dials the Captain, who picks up on the second ring. _“This had better be good, Kelly, I've got a press conference in ten.”_

“The dead body you sent us to this morning,” Chin begins, “there may be a connection to Co – the Governor's case.”

_“I'm listening.”_

Chin describes the bullet entry wounds as accurately as he can, taking his cue's from Sanden's expressions. “There are too many similarities for it to be a coincidence, sir,” he adds, and then bites the proverbial bullet. “I'm going to need access to the crime scene evidence from last night.”

“Not possible.”

“But Captain -”

 _“I said, it's not_ possible _, Kelly,”_ the Captain interrupts. He sighs loudly, maybe even deliberately. _“That's why there's a press conference in eight minutes.”_

Chin frowns. Danny leans forward, and even Sanden looks interested. “What do you mean?”

 _“The evidence from last night never made it back to HPD,”_ the Captain admits, and his reluctance is palpable. _“The murder weapon, shell casings, all of it.”_

“Why did no one tell me?” Chin asks immediately. He was the arresting officer – if there's another breach in the department he'll be first back in the firing line, all over again.

 _“Chain of custody was tampered with – hell, it was bludgeoned with a two-by-four somewhere along the line.”_ The Captain's voice is hard now.

“I saw Ste – Commander McGarrett's cellphone being tagged by an HPD uniformed officer,” Chin says. “The forensics team was legit.”

_“The forensics team was hijacked.”_

Chin swears.

 _“My thoughts exactly, Lieutenant,”_ the Captain says. 

Chin rubs the side of his face with his free hand. The only possible conclusion was that the Yakuza's ties in Oahu ran far deeper than any of them could have imagined. He remembers Steve's indignation at the Governor having tea with Hiro Noshimuri and how he'd had to convince himself – and then Chin, Kono and Danny – that her ignorance of his Yakuza links hadn't been feigned. And Steve's growing fixation on Wo Fat. Was it possible that Wo Fat had killed the Governor, and framed Steve, using his own single-minded determination against him?

They needed to talk to Steve.

“Captain,” Chin begins. “Can you hold off the press conference until morning?”

_“If I delay, the press will start literally foaming at their mouths.”_

“Not indefinitely, and not until tomorrow – Captain, you gave me this badge back for a reason.” Chin catches Danny's gaze and holds it. “Let me use it.”

The silence coming down the line is deafening. Then: _“Tell me what you need.”_


	2. Chapter 2

The Acting Governor of Hawaii is a short, rotund man with the manner of an accountant and the air of a boar staring down the business end of a hunting rifle. He is sworn in in front of a sea of video cameras and flashing lights while the remains of Five-0 watch from the shadows cast by the early evening light.

He steps forward to give his first official press conference and at the precise moment he begins to speak, Chin feels a hand at his elbow. 

“Come on,” the Captain tells him. Chin glances back at the others – Danny, Jenna and Aldershot – and they follow him and the Captain silently around the increased police presence, around the HPD buildings and through one of the back exits.

In the confines of his office, the Captain suddenly looks smaller than his usual looming frame, and his exhaustion is evident. Chin is just as tired, but even more on edge.

“Ask your questions, Chin,” the Captain says, breaking the tense silence.

Chin nods. “When did you first become aware that the evidence from the Governor's mansion was missing?”

“I personally wasn't aware of it until first thing this morning. With the mêlée from processing Commander McGarrett and Officer Kalakaua -” Chin's arm darts out to restrain Danny's automatic bristle, and he notes the fear and tension in Jenna's posture, and the naked curiosity in Aldershot's. “- nothing brought from the crime scene was processed immediately.”

“Giving someone enough time to slip in, unnoticed, and make off with everything.” Danny's voice is low and hard and completely to be expected.

“Yes,” the Captain tells him. “At this point I'm not ruling out anything -”

“Like another mole?” Danny is on a knife-edge now, and Chin could hit himself for forgetting about Meka. Danny hadn't mentioned him since leaving Sanden's office, and it hadn't occurred to Chin. He thinks – no, he knows Steve would have instinctively understood every degree of tension in his partner's body, would have made the connection intuitively.

The Captain sighs. “We can't take another hit like that,” he says, almost redundantly, but the women in the room hadn't been here for Meka, or even in the beginning when they'd first found out there was a mole.

“I'm guessing checking the station's internal security feeds is out,” Danny opines.

“No.” The Captain's answer surprises all of them. “It would be a long shot, but not 'out'.”

“I can – I can do that.” Jenna's arm twitches like she'd been on the verge of sticking it up.

The Captain motions behind him to his computer, then leans over for a Post-it pad and a pen, writes a sequence of letters and numbers and gives Jenna the top sheet. “My password,” he explains.

Taking it, Jenna pulls out her glasses and positions them carefully on her nose while squinting at the tiny handwriting. She glances at Chin quickly before concentrating on the computer.

“Lieutenant.” The Captain looks at him carefully. “A word?”

“Of course,” Chin nods. He starts to move for the door, but is stopped by another hand on his elbow.

The Captain glances sideways at Danny, Aldershot and Jenna and then looks back at Chin. “You have questions about your involvement in this case,” he says in a mixture of Hawaiian and pidgin.

It's as close to a private conversation as they're going to get, under the circumstances, and one Chin is more than willing to go along with. “My ability to be fair was questioned,” Chin replies.

“Yes.” To his credit, the Captain ignores Danny's eye-rolling and Aldershot's staring at the two of them.

“But these new events...” Chin gauges the other man's reactions carefully. “Why us?”

“Your team was far from popular in these halls – but nobody has ever been able to deny that Five-0 got results.” The untranslatable task force name gets everyone's attention, but without context they're left to wonder. “Consider this a second chance,” the Captain continues. “If the theft of the evidence is connected to McGarrett, Jameson or your second body – prove it.”

“In accordance with the law.”

At that, the Captain grins and indicates Chin's HPD badge. “Them's the rules.”

Chin takes a breath and tries to think. If Jenna can find something on the security feeds that links the missing evidence or any of the forensics teams to Wo Fat or the Yakuza – but they still need the second body to have Yakuza ties for the connection to stick. There are too many variables, and a much larger game being played than Chin can see right now. 

He sticks with what he can touch and see and affect directly. “Lieutenant Aldershot,” he says. “You spoke to Commander McGarrett earlier today.”

“Yes,” Aldershot confirms.

“What did he say _exactly_?”

“Just the one word answer to whether he killed Jameson or not – he said no,” she adds quickly.

“I need you to get back in to talk to him,” Chin tells her. “Make sure he knows this is coming from us – we need to know every detail of what went down in that office, whether he likes it or not.”

“He may not comply,” Aldershot says. “I believed him when he said he didn't do it, but he still acted like a guilty man -”

“Yeah, Steve does that,” Danny interrupts. “The way he probably sees it, his entire life is a string of 'what if's gone wrong, and this won't be any different.”

“I don't know,” Jenna chips in. “Is he really the type to punish himself for something he didn't do?”

“Yes,” Danny says instantly.

Jenna frowns over the frames of her glasses. “He wanted to believe the Governor when she said she didn't know about Noshimuri's Yakuza links.” She shrugs. “The Governor started Five-0 in response to his father's murder. That kind of faith can blind people.”

“Even more reason for him to think this is all his fault,” Danny says. “He broke into the Governor's mansion twice in one day, the second time with a gun. His intention may not have been to kill her, but that was still the end result.”

“And with his own gun,” Chin adds. “Steve doesn't take being physically bested all that well.”

“Flagellation.” Danny snaps his fingers. “Self-flagellation, that's the word I was looking for. It's practically a McGarrett speciality.”

“This pop psychology is all well and good,” Aldershot says. “But if your assessment of Commander McGarrett is accurate, how am I supposed to get through to him?”

“I'll go with you,” Danny says instantly, but Aldershot's already shaking her head.

“He's barred from having visitors,” she tells him apologetically. “Except for his attorney.”

“What about Kono?” Danny asks nobody in particular.

“Officer Kalakaua's charges are significantly less than those of Commander McGarrett's, under the circumstances.” The Captain takes Danny's surprise in his stride. “She'll be permitted limited visitation rights pre-trial.”

“Ever represented a civilian before?” Danny asks Aldershot, and she shakes her head again.

“Not within my purview – legal advice, on the other hand, transcends military affiliation.”

“Meaning you can get in?” Chin asks.

She considers it for a moment. “Can't hurt to try,” she replies. “And if that doesn't work, I can get in on my position as Commander McGarrett's lawyer – I do need to speak to _everyone_ in Five-0, after all.”

“Nothing on the precinct's internal security feeds,” Jenna reports. “I can't find any shots of the forensics teams or evidence making it back to the station.”

The Captain moves over to the window. “Conference is breaking up; you'll need to get out of here if you don't want the state's press all over you,” he informs the team.

Chin's already drawing up battle plans in his head. “Meet back at my place,” he says – perfectly redundantly, because he already knows there's nowhere else any of them is going to be tonight.

o o o o o

The kid's demons are loud and persistent. It's difficult for Steve to refer to him as anything else, and he doesn't think a name will exactly be forthcoming.

_“No, no, no... Chris, please...”_

Not the kid's name, at least. Chris is the latest variation on a name that could be Christie, Christine, Kristen... the continually changing diminutives are either an indication of familiarity – _“Book 'em, Danno!”_ – or there is no such person and Steve's over-analysing a nightmare.

Not that he can do much else right now. There are two guards on patrol in the hallways; a pair of bunkmates are loudly fucking in the cell opposite; the occupants of a cluster of cells at the far end of the block are discussing what sounds like... media coverage, though of what Steve can't make out.

And in the bunk directly beneath him a boy is crying out for his mother, sister, girlfriend... whoever Christie is.

Steve closes his eyes and wonders how Kono's faring, if she's in a jail like this one or still being held at HPD. Whether Chin's managed to get in and see her. What Chin and Danny and Jenna are even doing, whether they're getting on with something vaguely resembling a life or if they're being dragged into the mud and mire by Steve's screw-ups as well.

The kid whimpers and howls before falling quiet, making snuffling noises into his pillow.

Some small part of Steve's brain starts to consider the kid as a strategic op, and multiple possibilities start to present themselves to him. He could slip down off the bunk and try to coax the kid out of his nightmare – Danny's described the process enough times that Steve thinks he could get the steps right – but that's open to misinterpretation and even physical retaliation, and Steve's learned the hard way not to underestimate smaller opponents before.

He could stay on the bunk and try talking the kid out of the nightmare. The problem with that is he'd have no idea what to say beyond the very obvious and very stilted. He can't remember Danny ever having gone into detail about how he's dealt with Grace's night terrors, but he suspects it's an intuitive thing, and one of those areas where Danny can run rings around him without even trying.

The other alternative, of course, is to do nothing and ride the nightmare out. It's more passive than Steve's used to, but this entire situation has left him more passive than he's used to. He's technically innocent of the crime he's in jail for, but breaking out is a federal offence – and something he really wouldn't be able to come back from.

It sounds overly simple, but it's the truth: Hawaii can't be his home if he's a fugitive.

There's a loud, sharp intake of breath from the bottom bunk, and then the breathing patterns change. The kid's awake.

Steve still doesn't know what he's supposed to say or do, or how it's going to be received. He doubts it would be well.

And in the end his decision is – again – taken away from him. “Didn't wake you, did I?” someone asks – Steve realises it's the kid.

He frowns in the darkness. “No.”

“Good, s'good, I -” _didn't want to make you mad_ is probably the rest of that sentence.

“Who's Christie?” Steve asks before he can stop himself.

But it doesn't matter – the kid doesn't answer him.

o o o o o

The team meets back at Chin's an hour after they leave the precinct. Jenna has clearly stopped by her motel room, dumping a bulging knapsack by the side of the couch and settling herself into her reduced command centre in one smooth movement.

Danny barrels through the house, cell phone attached to one ear and in mid-argument with someone female. That much Chin can tell from the higher-pitched yelling he can hear from the kitchen. Danny's language is all wrong for it to be Rachel, but that doesn't rule out other family members he doesn't have direct knowledge of.

Aldershot shows up last, having knocked on Chin's door with the same rigid formality as when she'd shown up earlier. She's changed into civilian clothes between PD and here, sporting nondescript colours and modest necklines that remind Chin of the librarians from when he'd been at Kukui. She hesitates in the doorway, habit clearly making her reach for a hat that isn't there before she catches herself and asks: “Can I come in?”

Chin holds back a smile, but stands aside. “Come on,” he says, leading her to the living room.

Jenna doesn't give up any of the couch space, but Danny's already set out three chairs around the coffee table which are quickly filled. Danny's cell phone is on the table, screen down; his face is taut and Chin can't help but wonder what the argument had been about, and with whom.

“First things first,” Chin starts. “What do we know?”

Jenna looks up from the laptop. “Governor Jameson was killed with two bullets from Com – Steve's gun. The same gun was likely used to kill the man whose death you and Danny were sent to investigate.”

“The second crime scene possibly mirrored Jameson's,” Danny says sombrely. “John Doe was sitting upright when he was killed by someone standing over him.”

“And the time of death was while Steve was in HPD custody – and his gun missing from evidence,” Chin continues.

“But why?” Aldershot asks. Whether it's from some compulsion to feel included or just to act as a voice of reason isn't clear. “Assuming that Commander McGarrett's weapon was used to kill the second victim – why?”

“To throw doubt on the investigation – and Steve's arrest,” Chin suggests.

“So says the arresting officer,” Danny counters. Before Chin can protest, he continues: “You saw those reporters hustling the Acting Governor – we all did. And then there's the news coverage. Steve's as good as locked up for the rest of his life. It would take nothing short of a miracle for the case to be thrown out.”

“Or a conspiracy,” Jenna says.

“What do you -” Aldershot begins, but Chin's already seeing the bigger picture.

“Wo Fat,” he says to Jenna, not taking his eyes off hers. She nods slowly. “He's the only person who could have made Steve go off the reservation the way he did, and the only person on the islands with a vested interest in playing mind games with him.”

“He has ties to the Yakuza,” Danny interjects. “Assuming my hunch was correct and that John Doe does have Yakuza links of his own – there you have it.” He waves his arms around.

“But why?” Jenna frowns. “Why would Wo Fat set Steve up as the perfect fall guy for a high-profile murder, then turn around and sow the seeds for a mistrial?”

The realisation hits Chin like a sucker punch. “Because he can. This is all a game to him.”

“And one of control.” Danny rubs his face with a hand. “This – all of this is his way of telling Steve he's the top dog and no one can touch him.”

“But we can,” Jenna says instantly. “Can't we?”

“More importantly,” Aldershot says, though more hesitantly than before, “how would we go about proving it?”

“I don't think we can,” Chin replies. “The second crime scene was a secondary location, and likely clean.”

“Plus there's what Sanden told us – everything not directly related to Jameson goes straight to the bottom of the list.” Danny pulls a face. “Aside from a commonality in ballistics and my admittedly less than stellar memory for faces, we have nothing concrete linking the two murders.”

“But it would be enough to secure Commander McGarrett's release, at least temporarily,” Aldershot says – and doesn't that just grab everyone's attention. “Like you said,” she tells Chin, “if this is about control and power plays, the end game will be the commander's case being overturned, even without an outright exoneration.”

It's as messed up a ploy as Chin's ever heard, but it makes a sickening kind of sense. If everything Five-0 has suspected about Wo Fat is true – calling it bad news for Steve would be the understatement of the century. McGarrett's never responded well to being the subject of mind games, and Chin doesn't want to think about how he'd react to this.

Silence echoes around the coffee table, and the unspoken question hangs even louder.

Now what?

Now... “We have to compile as much hard evidence as we can,” Chin decides out loud. “Danny, see if Sanden's still up, and get her to go over every inch of John Doe to see if there's anything she might have missed the first time around; stand over her shoulder if you have to. Jenna – keep trying to track down any evidence from the Governor's mansion. Aldershot – get onto jail authorities and organise interviews with Kono and Steve. You're still our only guaranteed point of contact to both of them.”

“What about you?” Danny asks.

“I'm going to ruffle a few feathers,” Chin answers. He's ready to admit that he doesn't have the first clue _how_ he's going to do that when it hits him and he reaches for his cellphone and badge, scrolling through the contacts list on the former while placing the latter on the coffee table.

Danny doesn't look convinced. “Call me if you need backup.”

Chin nods, even as he's making the call. It picks up on the sixth ring.

_“What do you want?”_

“Help,” Chin says. He tucks the phone under his ear and leaves the house quickly, before the others can stop or ask him what he's up to. He wonders whether Danny's realised that he has no intention of calling for backup – the last thing they need to be is another man down right now. “I need your help.”

o o o o o

“Christie's my ex.”

The statement, whispered but clear, makes Steve jump a little. It's around 0400 and up to that point he'd been dozing, relaxing his guard enough to try and get some sleep. The adrenaline coursing through his system quickly causes that plan to abort.

He thinks about the moniker the kid had used, and what he'd heard up to that point. It must have been a hell of a break up. Steve's not sure what he's supposed to do next, so he stays silent and waits.

“Well, sort of,” the kid eventually continues. “I haven't seen her in a while, I don't know what...”

Steve weighs his options. He thinks he understands the mechanics of prison visits and relationships, but it's not something he has direct experience of. “How long have you been here?”

“Four months,” the kid answers, surprisingly promptly. “Don't know why it hasn't gone to trial yet.”

“But this isn't your first time?” Steve guesses.

“No.”

Steve exhales into the silence. “What are you in for?” _And was it connected to Five-0?_

_Did I do this to you?_

“Possession with intent to distribute.” The kid rattles it off like it's a shopping list. “Caught with a large enough amount they've got a shot at making the charge stick.”

 _Why are you telling me this?_ “And Christie didn't want you involved.”

“She wants me to get clean. But there aren't exactly promising career options on the island for a high-school drop out at the best of times.”

Steve recognises the cynical tone from his own childhood, and Dad shipping him out to the mainland straight after Mom's funeral with nothing but a couple of suitcases and a pit in his stomach that he'd thought would never go away. But he'd had football to keep him going, and the promise of Annapolis, and the almost petty solace that at least Mary had been in the same boat as him.

“So that's my story.” The kid interrupts Steve's brief reverie with practised apathy. “My whole life is one vicious circle of drugs and jail and nothing worth stopping for. So stop asking questions, Five-0. It's not your job any more, and from what I hear, it's never going to be again.”

And that, apparently, is that.

o o o o o

Sid takes Chin to a twenty-four hour laundromat on the outskirts of Honolulu, the outside of which is grey and battered, flaking paintwork and old wood boarding up one of the windows. The machines look about as old as he is, and three of them are in use when Sid pushes the front door open and steps inside, leaving Chin to follow in his wake. The air is pungent with cigarette smoke and detergent and the dim lighting seems appropriate given their reasons for being here.

There are a handful of patrons. A few of them glance up at Chin but they just as quickly dismiss him, and even fewer pay Sid any heed. Sid pointedly ignores all of them, instead focusing on his path over discarded clothing, bags and unidentifiable debris.

The laundromat's proprietor's suspicion when he sees Sid is impossible to miss.

“Don't serve cops,” he grunts.

Sid glances at Chin. _What did you expect?_ is written all over his face. “Watched the news lately, Owens?” he asks, both establishing himself as the lead in this... whatever this is, and giving Chin the other man's name.

Owens huffs. “Don't mean much. What do you want?”

“Traffic reports,” Sid replies, picking his words carefully.

“Who's the beanpole?” Owens counters.

Sid glances at Chin again. “Family. He's one of mine. Now, do you got those reports or do I have to look elsewhere?”

“More'n your life is worth to sting me,” Owens replies, calm but derisory. He makes a show of sifting through some of the papers on the table beside him.

Sid sighs. “All we're here for is information. If this was a sting, SWAT would be all over this hole of yours already.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Keahi.”

Owens swears. “You're cashing that in for – this? That damn _haole_ SEAL?”

“He's as _kama 'aina_ as you and me, maybe more,” Chin replies before he can stop himself, and before he can wonder what or maybe who Keahi is. “Do you have what I want, or not?”

Owens glances between Sid and Chin a few times, processing the new dynamic with more shrewdness than had been there before. Then he nods, and smirks. “I'll need time.”

“How does an hour sound?” Sid demands.

Owens swears again. “My schedule. I'll call when I have what you want.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Sid leaves the office, motioning Chin to follow, and they leave the laundromat at a much quicker pace than when they'd come in.

Chin's about to get into his car when Sid stops him. “I hope you know what you're doing.”

“Yeah,” Chin says. “I – thank you. For in there.”

Sid shrugs. “The hell I'm collecting any other way off that creep. But he's reliable as they come. If he supplies intel, it'll be solid.”

Chin just hopes it will be enough.

“You're a good man,” Sid says, surprising him – and himself by the look of it, “doing this for McGarrett.”

“He's innocent,” Chin shrugs.

Sid gives him a long look. “Like you, taking the fall so Auntie could get her kidney.” He exhales loudly, then nods. “Like I said, hope you know what you're doing, cuz. I'll call you when Owens comes through.”

Chin nods and watches him walk off to his car, get in and leave – back home to his wife and kid. Then he gets on his bike and heads back to his place, where a different kind of family will be waiting for him.

It's going to be another long night.

o o o o o

Kono is pulled out of the breakfast queue – like she was going to eat that colourless slop – and taken to an interview room. Escorted would be too kind a word, but so far nobody's crossed a line, and she isn't exactly in a position to complain.

A redheaded woman stands up when they enter the room, and looks pointedly at the guard until she backs out and closes the door behind her. Kono tries not to stare. She's never seen this woman before in her life; it's obvious that she's not carrying a badge or a gun, maybe not any kind of weapon underneath her bland civilian clothes – but there's something about the way she holds herself that seems familiar, but Kono can't quite put her finger on it.

“Kono Kalakaua.” The woman stumbles only a little over the surname, and holds a hand out, which Kono slowly shakes. “I'm Lieutenant Aldershot, JAG – Commander McGarrett's attorney.”

She's military – that explains why her posture's familiar. Kono's not sure it explains why she's here, though, but if it takes her away from the mess hall for a while, she'll play along.

“Take a seat,” Aldershot continues.

“What are you doing here?” Kono asks. It comes out rougher than she'd like, but she figures the current situation gives her a pass for being abrupt.

“I have a message for you,” Aldershot replies. She pulls a face, clearly concentrating. “Aho – a'o...” She sighs and pulls a piece of crumpled paper out of a pocket, straightening it out and smoothing the edges before handing it to Kono.

_A'ohe hana nui ka alu'ia._

Kono frowns as the memory surfaces. _Beers being passed around after an almost completely successful first day of – whatever this was going to be. Awesome, probably. “We need a name!”_

“Chin sent you,” she says thickly.

Aldershot nods, but says nothing.

“So what – what's going on?” Kono asks. She hasn't even heard rumours since being transferred to jail, and all she's had to go on was the glimpse of Steve being processed after the old lady had identified her as part of the robbery.

“Commander McGarrett's currently being detained in the Oahu Community Correctional Center,” Aldershot replies. “There's a solid case for convicting him for murdering Governor Jameson -” Kono's heart sinks. “- at least, there was.”

Was? Murder? Kono sits up a little straighter than before. “What do you mean?”

Aldershot hesitates, then looks around, as if she's expecting someone to be listening in on what they're saying. There are security cameras, yes, but Kono can't remember if they're wired for sound or not. Either way, Aldershot leans in over the table. “The case is starting to fall apart,” she explains. “Evidence is missing -” Missing? Or stolen? “- and there's a second body. He hasn't been identified yet, but we think he was killed with McGarrett's gun while McGarrett was in custody.”

“Whoa, whoa – hold on.” Kono tries to stop the whirl of thoughts and questions in her head. “What?”

Aldershot shakes her head. “I don't know exactly what or how or even why, but Chin, Detective Williams and Jenna – they know what they're doing.”

Kono smiles. “Five-0,” she says quietly. “You'd be surprised what we can pull off.” She catches herself on the 'we'. “What about me?” Chin and the others might be able to overturn a murder charge – and she's still reeling on Steve being arrested for _murder_ because he doesn't do that, he'd never do that, not without proof and cause and what the hell's been happening to her team over the last week or more because it's mad and -

“I don't know,” Aldershot says, the apology cutting through everything in Kono's head. “Your charges are separate to Commander McGarrett's, and technically he's who I'm supposed to be worried about.” 

“Yeah? How's that going for you?”

A flicker of a smile crosses Aldershot's face. “Your team can be very... persuasive. That the commander is innocent helps, as well. Mostly...” She takes a breath.

“Chin sent you,” Kono says again.

“Yeah. He just needs to know you're okay – the others as well.”

“They can't just overturn why I'm in here,” Kono points out.

“No.” Aldershot shakes her head. “But I'm pretty sure they'll give it everything they've got.”

There's a lump in Kono's throat. “Tell them to be careful,” she says. “And not to worry about me being in here. I can take care of myself.”

“I'll do that,” Aldershot replies. She stands up, waits for Kono to do the same, and holds out her hand again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, ma'am.”

“Likewise.” Kono shakes her hand. A minute later the guard comes in and takes her back to the cell block. She doesn't regret missing breakfast – but it's worth it knowing a bit more of what's happening.

o o o o o

Danny decides to grab coffees on his way to the campus to meet Professor Sanden. One of the first things Patch had taught him back in Newark was when dealing with civilians to butter them up first and it's served him well over the years. He thinks Sanden might even appreciate the gesture, given everything she's had to deal with over the last day or so.

Ten minutes out from Chin's, and Danny thinks he's got a tail. He tests it, taking a couple of unnecessary little detours and sure enough, back on the main road he's still being followed. He pulls up outside the coffee shop, and checks that his gun is where it's supposed to be as the tail – a dark blue model that looks like it's come straight from the production line – pulls up a few spaces over from him.

Danny rechecks his gun, adjusts his shirt so that his badge is visible and then stomps over to the second car. He doesn't care how badly this could go if a stray camera is watching, he just -

“Stan?” The driver is indeed dear old Step-Stan, and Danny takes in what he can. Stan's shirt is rumpled, his expression focused but his eyes are dull. And he's completely focused on -

“Hey, hey, come on man.” Danny steps backwards automatically. “There is a time and a place for -”

Stan punches him.

Danny stumbles. He rubs his jaw. He realises he has no idea what to say.

“You bastard.” Stan clearly doesn't mind about the lack of conversation. “I... you bastard.”

“I'm sorry,” Danny says automatically, before he can stop himself. There's a crowd starting to gather – just a couple of people, but these things have a way of snowballing.

Stan is obviously thinking along the same lines, or maybe he's thinking something else altogether – Danny's never paid the man enough attention to figure it out one way or the other. But regardless of what he is or isn't thinking, Stan just stares at Danny for a long few seconds, breathing loudly, before he gets back in his car and drives off again.

Danny turns around and heads into the coffee shop, ignoring the former spectators who can't decide whether they want to look at the bruise probably already forming on his face or his HPD badge. He buys the coffees without preamble and drives straight for campus. He periodically checks his mirror, but he's not being followed this time.

In the office adjacent to her lab, Sanden pokes Danny's jaw with a latex-gloved finger. “Do you want to tell me what happened, Detective?”

Danny shakes his head and pulls back from the impromptu examination. The last few months have been crazy enough without him trying to put parts of it into actual words – he has a sneaking suspicion that _my ex-wife-now-girlfriend's husband just punched me on the sidewalk_ would need actual context to even remotely make sense.

“Have you found out anything else since we were here yesterday?” he asks.

“Nothing useful,” Sanden replies. She leads him through to the lab with the slab and John Doe's remains. “Have you found out anything else since you were here yesterday?”

“Possible leads on the possible murder weapon.” It's not much, but it's still all they have. 

“Well,” Sanden begins, taking a swig of coffee as she goes, “if you can get me the weapon, I can match it to the bullets I took out of John Doe.”

Danny considers this. He knows Steve got the weapon from Kamekona, but the big guy's dropped off everyone's radar, and not even Chin and his extended family have been able to figure out where he's gone. Danny can't blame him, really. “Does anyone else know you've got bullets?”

“No.” Sanden frowns. “I take it that's a good thing?”

“Just...” Danny doesn't even know. “Just keep it quiet for now, please.”

“Sure.” Sanden moves around the covered body.

Danny sips from his own coffee. It's lukewarm, bordering on cold, but he's had worse.

“In other news, I still don't know John Doe's real name,” Sanden says. “I pulled a partial set of fingerprints, but he's not in any system I've been able to run them through.”

Which still means he could be Yakuza, but he could just as easily be some schmuck in the wrong place at the wrong time for the wrong criminal mastermind's latest evil plans. “Okay,” Danny says anyway. “Fingerprints are good.”

Sanden makes a noise at the back of her throat and drinks some more coffee. “I can't believe I'm saying this but I'd be happier if this guy had a record – something. Anything – just so I'd know who he is.”

Danny can sympathise, but one of the perils of being a homicide cop is having to deal with the fact that not every body who passes through his watch is going to have a name tag attached.

Before he can say anything, his phone buzzes, and Danny reads the text. “You just need a gun, right? To match up to Mr Doe's bullets?”

“Yes...”

Danny nods. “I think we might be able to do something about that. That was Chin – Lieutenant Kelly,” he clarifies, holding up the phone. “We've just got a lead on the possible murder weapon.”

“Okay.” Sanden takes his coffee cup and motions towards the door. “Go. Do – do your thing.”

Danny's out of the door like – well, like a shot.

o o o o o

Steve's in the yard. He knows that rationally he shouldn't be out here, that being this exposed to potential physical attacks is the last thing he needs. Less rational is his compulsion for fresh air and island breeze – and while he knows he can take out multiple assailants, he has no particular interest in getting a tally.

What he keeps telling himself he's interested in is the kid. Steve still doesn't know his name, didn't ask for it last night and isn't exactly in a position to ask around, but he remembers the face and physical features from before lights-out. He hasn't been able to extrapolate body language or pace of movement, but that will come once he sights the kid outside of the cell.

He gets his opportunity twelve and a half minutes after entering the yard and taking up a strategically sound position at the perimeter – as sound as he can get out here, anyway. The kid slips through the gate behind three oversized guys who wouldn't look out of place on a nightclub door and makes his way over to a group of men Steve has already identified as drug dealers. The kid's movements are jerky and uncoordinated, and if Steve didn't know any better he'd suspect the kid was high already. He wonders how the kid's paying for the drugs, whether he's got some form of cash flow in here or if he's offering some other service in exchange. The idea of the kid, who in daylight still looks like he should be in high school, getting on his knees to get high is enough to turn Steve's stomach.

He wants there to be something – anything – that could persuade the kid to clean up. He remembers Christie's name from last night, but he can't exactly commandeer Lieutenant Aldershot on her next visit - _if there's a next visit_ , something in his mind whispers – and get her to track down someone who might not be willing to help someone who's already said he doesn't want helping or saving.

“McGarrett!” It's one of the guards – and he doesn't look happy about having to deal with Steve. “Lawyer's here.”

Steve jumps down from the bench he'd been sitting on, and away from the Hispanic with the quarterback build who clearly thought he was being subtle about sneaking up on him.

In the interview room, Aldershot is wearing civvies, and it throws Steve for a second before he recollects himself. “Lieutenant.”

“Commander,” she nods, and motions him to a chair.

“What do you want?” he asks.

To her credit, Aldershot barely hesitates. “Everything you can remember from the night the Governor was shot.”

_He points the gun at her head, demanding answers in a voice that doesn't sound like him but has to be. Why Laura Hills, why the Yakuza. His entire world flipping on its axis with every answer and angry tone -_

_On the floor. He's lying on the floor. There's a gun in his hand. He can smell the residue but he doesn't remember firing it. His neck hurts and someone's pulling him to his feet and –_

“I didn't go there to kill her,” Steve says quietly, but firmly. “That wasn't my intention.”

“You went there for answers,” Aldershot surmises. “Proof?”

Steve nods.

“Proof of what?”

Steve hesitates. Memories of Mom warning him to never speak ill of the dead war with the burgeoning cop instinct to share what he knows – such as it exists in fragmented memories.

“Proof of what, Commander?” Aldershot presses.

“That Jameson had Laura Hills killed for getting too close to my dad's investigation into her ties to the Yakuza, and for countermanding her attempts to stop me finishing what he'd started.” Again it doesn't sound like Steve's speaking, but dimly he knows it's him. 

Aldershot leans forward. “Did you record what she said?” she asks. “Or did you transmit it?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “My phone – I recorded everything she said.”

“Your phone is missing from evidence,” Aldershot tells him.

Steve stares at her. “It was there. On her desk. I set it to record. Why wouldn't it be in ev...” He trails off as finally – finally things start to click. “There's another mole in HPD. Someone who compromised chain of custody.”

“That's what it looks like.”

“Why?”

Aldershot shakes her head – and Steve thinks he gets it. There are some things he's better off not knowing, at least for now. He doesn't have to like it.

He wants to ask if Aldershot's spoken to anyone else on the team, whether she knows anything about Kono's situation, but before he can look for the words, Aldershot's phone buzzes. She smiles apologetically at him before reading the text message.

“What is it?” Steve asks. If it's relevant to him or Five-0, then surely -

“That was Jenna,” she tells him. “I think the team's just found your evidence.”

o o o o o

Chin's making coffee for Jenna when Aldershot calls to let him know she got in to see Kono and is now on her way over to Oahu Community to see Steve. She passes on the message from Kono – that they should look after themselves, and Chin smiles. Just like his baby cousin to worry about everyone else when she's in just as much hot water as they are – more, in fact.

Jenna practically grabs the coffee as soon as Chin sets the mug down on the table beside her laptop.

“Still no joy?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “There was a partial upload from Steve's phone to the Five-0 servers, but the data's corrupted, like it was interrupted mid-process. There's nowhere near enough information to reconstruct the files.”

“It was worth a try,” Chin reassures her. He feels as dejected as Jenna looks – the only realistic link they have left to any evidence from the Governor's mansion is Sid's contact at the laundromat, and he hadn't exactly been forthcoming with how quickly he'd be able to dig anything up – and there's no guarantee he'll even find anything.

“How do you see this ending?” Jenna asks suddenly. “I mean, really ending.”

“How do you mean?”

“If you're right, and Wo Fat is pulling all the strings...” Jenna shrugs helplessly. “What if this – what we're doing – is all in accordance with some master plan? Five-0's been disbanded – we might be able to get Steve out of jail, but not Kono. He could lose his commission, and the best case for Kono could be, what? Getting out but losing her badge?” She stares at Chin with wide eyes. “For some of us, this team is all we have.”

“No,” Chin tells her gently. “For all of us, this team is all we have.” At least that was how it had been in the beginning. Danny has Rachel and Grace back, and will go wherever they are once this is over – which is New Jersey, and that's everything he's ever wanted, right there, if his frequent outbursts over the last several months have been anything to go by. Kono reinvented herself once, but she's running out of resets and Chin – he's got what he thought he'd always wanted, but the HPD badge isn't a cure-all. Steve could have reactivated himself into the SEALs or Naval Intelligence pretty much any time he wanted after finally getting Hesse, but something had kept him here all this time as well, beyond finishing John's last great investigation. And then there was Jenna, who had a desk job in Langley waiting for her – unless it wasn't, or she'd outgrown her analyst origins.

Chin realises with a dull certainty that he can't answer Jenna's question – he has no idea how this will all end, or even if it will. If he is responsible, however indirectly, for all of this, then Wo Fat could rival Steve for his determination and drive and ability to single mindedly obsess over something. The fallout of the two of them having each other in their cross-hairs for an extended period of time isn't something Chin particularly wants to think about.

His phone rings, and Chin sets his own coffee down before answering it. “Kelly.”

 _“It's me,”_ Sid tells him. _“Owens came through. Got an address where your evidence is being kept.”_

“Tell me.” Chin grabs Jenna's laptop away from her and balances the cell against his shoulder while he types out the address that Sid gives him.

_“You going on your own?”_

“I'll have back up.” Chin reaches for the keyboard again and with one hand types: _Text Danny_.

 _“You and the Jersey boy?”_ Sid doesn't sound convinced.

Chin huffs, already looking around for where he dumped the bike keys the night before. “They train them well in Newark. And besides,” he adds, “I can't exactly put this through the books.”

 _“True.”_ Why one of them hasn't hung up yet is a mystery. _“Guess this means I gotta ride along and watch your ass.”_

“No, you don't,” Chin tells him. “I have to go.” He hangs up before Sid has a chance to reply.

“Danny's on his way.” Jenna bites her lip. “Be careful.”

Chin places his hands on her shoulders, gripping gently for a second before letting go again. “We will,” he promises.

o o o o o

Danny pulls up at the corner of the street Jenna had texted him, and looks around for Chin. He sees the bike at the far intersection, but there's no sign of the man himself – or, indeed, of any life at all in the immediate vicinity.

“I'm over here, Danny.”

Danny just about succeeds in neither jumping nor screaming, but it comes close. Then he looks closer. Chin's sitting in the passenger seat of an old sedan, and sitting in the driver's seat is... 

“Sid?” Danny bends down to get a better look.

“Williams.”

“Should I...?” Danny gestures vaguely at the back seat, and decides to climb in anyway. He parks himself in the middle, and leans forward. “So what's the plan? I mean, we can't just go in there willy-nilly and -”

“Go in there what?” Sid eyeballs him and then glances at Chin. “Seriously, cuz, where'd you find this one?”

Chin shakes his head slightly. “Danny's right,” he tells Sid. “Our old rules don't apply any more. We need probable cause, preferably something that will stand up to scrutiny.”

“Like what?” Danny asks. “Oh dear, oh my, I think I heard someone crying out for help inside?”

Chin snorts, while Sid simply stares at him. “Odd time for a sense of humour.”

“It's a coping mechanism, all right?” Danny retorts. 

“Gentlemen.” Chin looks amused now. “How about we just knock on the front door?”

Danny considers this. “And then what? We don't exactly do incognito any more. Neither do we have full immunity. And don't think the Captain won't have all of our asses if we screw this up,” he adds in Chin's direction. It's redundant, but he feels it should be reiterated several times anyway – even if the evidence that could exonerate Steve is on the other side of the front door in question. Also not in their favour is the fact that no judge is likely to give them a warrant, not with the freedom of the ever so beloved late Governor Jameson's alleged murderer on the line.

“You two are ridiculous.” Sid gets out of the car and strides over to the house his contact had given them. Danny and Chin share a split second glance and scramble out of the car to catch him up.

“We're ridiculous?” Danny hisses at him. “You – you are certifiably insane!”

Sid ignores him, and steps calmly over the house's broken front gate and marches up to the front door. He bangs on it twice. “HPD, open up!”

There's no sound from inside. “HPD!” Sid bellows through the door. 

“What exactly are we supposed to be getting whoever's inside on?” Danny wonders out loud, his hand already on his weapon. 

Sid looks at him like he's completely stupid. “Theft of evidence pertinent to a criminal investigation, _brah_ ,” he replies calmly, and at a much more reasonable volume. Then: “I hear something – get around back.”

Chin complies immediately, slipping around the side of the house, leaving Danny and Sid to stare at the front door some more. Sid actually has the temerity to grin at Danny. “You want to do the honours, Jersey?”

Danny has a sinking suspicion that he knows what's coming next. “Be my guest,” he says, and steps back.

Sid licks his lips, then kicks down the front door.

He and Danny charge through the house, guns raised. “Clear!” Danny sweeps through an unfurnished living-slash-dining area.

“Clear!” Sid moves through the kitchen then doubles back on himself to go upstairs.

Danny re-holsters his weapon and looks for Chin – he's out on the back patio, cuffing a scrawny little thing barely Danny's size. He tugs the man's hair, pulling his head back so Danny can get a good look at him. 

“Where is it?” Danny asks. The man spits, and Danny grins. He'll never admit to it – but he kind of likes this part. He drops to a squat and smiles some more. “You know why we're here and you have what we want. Now tell me where to find it before I call my cranky friend from upstairs and he can repeat the question.”

The man's eyes narrow. “I'm just a courier.”

“So I promise not to shoot you,” Danny replies, much to Chin's amusement.

“Five-0 is history.” The man spits again. “Hit me and I'll take you down with me.”

“Now who said anything about hitting?” Danny tries to look offended. “Do I look like the kind of man who'd kick the ass of a man on the ground and in cuffs?” he wonders out loud. “Better question,” he says, attention back fully on the man underneath Chin, “is do you want to be the one who finds out?”

As it turns out, all three of them are spared from finding out the answer to that question. “I found it,” Sid announces from behind Danny. He turns around to see Sid holding a brown cardboard box. 

Chin and Danny get to their feet, not without difficulty, and take the lid off the box. 

“Jackpot...” Danny whispers.

Inside it is what is unmistakeably Steve's cellphone, some shell casings, half completed fingerprint and blood work kits – and a gun.

o o o o o

“None of this will be admissible in a court of law,” Chin says. “And there are no witnesses, co-operating or otherwise, to step forward and admit their level of involvement. Really, though, it's simple – you have two clear choices in front of you.”

The Acting Governor of Hawaii stares at him, but doesn't say anything. His aides bristle, and the heads of the Hawaii branches of the various law enforcement agencies look similarly unimpressed. All except for the HPD Captain, who looks inscrutable, except for the quiet shine of approval and even pride in his eyes.

Behind Chin, he knows Danny, Jenna, Aldershot and Sanden are giving as good as they're getting. But they're not the focus of this show.

“The evidence in front of you proves conclusively that Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett did not murder Governor Pat Jameson, her aide Laura Hills, or the man in the harbour, who remains unidentified,” Chin continues. “That we believe the individual known as Wo Fat to be responsible for all three is at this point immaterial.”

The Acting Governor nods, but keeps quiet, even at the mention of Wo Fat.

“If you decide to formally charge Lieutenant Commander McGarrett for the murders of Governor Jameson and Laura Hills – falsely so – you will be under the thumb of Wo Fat and the Yakuza for the rest of your political life,” Chin says. 

“What's the alternative? Letting him go?” The Acting Governor speaks up for the first time. “The media would crucify us.”

“And if they were to find out you'd sentenced an innocent man just to appease them?” 

The Acting Governor closes his eyes briefly.

“Own up to it,” Chin continues. “Admit you made a mistake, that Commander McGarrett was present but not responsible for Jameson's murder – that he was framed.” _Have some integrity. Be a better person than those who came before you._

 _Give Steve a second chance_.

o o o o o

Two weeks and four days after he is arrested for Jameson's murder, Steve stands at the front gate of Oahu Community Correctional Center, wearing civilian clothes and masking a limp. He squints in the harsh sunlight and doesn't make eye contact with the guards as he walks out into a changed world.

Chin, Danny and Jenna are waiting for him by the Camaro, and Danny opens the passenger door as Steve approaches.

Chin knows better than to think this means it's all over. There's still Kono to get out, but even without that...

This is just the beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

It's raining. Danny's lived in Hawaii long enough to know that this sort of weather is unusual for Honolulu in what is laughably referred to as 'summer' by the locals. It's been raining for a little over fifteen hours, a moderately heavy, balmy downpour that soaks you to the skin within seconds – roughly the length of time it takes to run from the car to a house, for example.

He slips inside Steve's front door and starts wringing his shirt and tie onto the welcome mat. The towel he left on the coat rack this morning is still there, and he rubs it over his face and head a few times, kicking off sodden shoes at the same time.

“Steve, buddy, you here?” Danny gets no answer – to be expected – and finds him out on the lanai – also to be expected – staring at the quicksand formerly known as his beach. Steve looks thin – thinner than he had done yesterday when he'd stepped past the jail perimeter and Danny had gotten his first sight of the man in more than two weeks. He supposes it's the light playing tricks on him. That, or reality has just taken a while to settle in.

Danny knows better than to ask if Steve has slept, or eaten in the couple of hours that he's been gone.

His cellphone starts to ring. The caller ID says _Mary Ann_ and there's a joke about psychic ninja skills running in the family at the back of Danny's mind, but he knows better than to voice it.

Instead he waves the phone under Steve's nose. “I think this is for you. This, and the literally dozens of calls I've taken over the last two and a half weeks. You know, sooner or later she's going to stop listening to me and just show up on your doorstep and then you'll have no choice but to deal with her.”

Steve glances at him, but where there would have been myriad emotions flickering across his face in an instant, this time there's nothing. Just a cool, implacable mask. Then the moment is gone and he's staring out at the rain-soaked vista again.

Danny sighs and waits for the call to time out. He hasn't heard from Catherine since Steve's arrest, but he supposes that's her distancing herself for protection. He can't say that he blames her. “I'm going to make coffee. You want some?” 

There's no answer, but Danny sets two mugs out anyway. He's midway through prep and droplets of rainwater have finally stopped running down his nose when there's a knock at the door. He pokes his head towards the back of the house – but sure enough, Steve hasn't so much as twitched.

Standing on the other side of the door and looking delightfully bedraggled are Chin and Jenna. Danny offers them his towel and contemplates looking for Mary's hair-dryer in her old room.

“How is he?” Chin asks quietly. Jenna raises her eyebrows in assent, peeking around Danny to look for Steve.

Danny shrugs. “Not very Steve-like.”

“Can't blame him,” Chin says.

“Yeah.” Danny goes back and finishes the coffees. He steps back out, sees Steve's back still turned to everyone, and offers the drinks to Chin and Jenna, who accept them gratefully.

“Still nothing from the Captain?” Danny asks after a few minutes' quiet.

Chin shakes his head. “There's nothing he can do. Last I heard, the DA was prepping to formally file charges.”

Danny swears mentally. For two weeks, he's been waiting for something – anything – to happen to save Kono. The recordings from Steve's phone implicated Jameson in covering the original theft, but that alone wasn't enough to get Kono out of jail as well as Steve. He'd been framed. She'd done the deed – they all had, but she was the one taking the fall.

“Tamsin's offered to represent her,” Jenna offers. “I mean, she knows it's pretty much a lost cause, but she's going to do it anyway.”

Danny wants to nod, say something, do anything. Aldershot's young and bright, but she has no chance against a judicial system determined to get its pound of Five-0 flesh any way it can. He thinks that must show on his face, because Jenna's expression contorts to one of sympathy, while Chin just looks resigned.

“Has he said anything yet?” Jenna asks, glancing briefly towards the lanai.

Danny shrugs. “Not out loud, and not to me.”

“Give it time,” Chin tells him.

Yeah. Danny knows a day isn't going to bring Steve out of his funk. On any other day Danny thinks he'd be able to simply talk McGarrett out of it, use all the right trigger words and argumentative phrases to force a reaction, whether it's a soliloquy on the wonders of Hawaii and pineapples and semi-automatic weaponry or an essay on why Danny's tie of the day sucks and he should try to be more karma-whatever.

This is far from any other day. Steve's spent two weeks in jail for a crime he didn't commit only to be released because the guy who really did pull the trigger probably killed someone else just to prove it hadn't been Steve in the first place. Danny's never kidded himself that he has any great understanding of the criminal mind, but Wo Fat takes the biscuit. Hell, he's got the whole bakery.

Someone knocks on Steve's front door. Danny jumps a little, then frowns. “I didn't think we were expecting anyone else,” he comments.

Jenna shakes her head. “Tamsin's on base today, and I don't think we were followed.”

“We weren't,” Chin says grimly. He and Danny move to either side of the door, hands reaching for weapons that aren't there while Jenna looks half-amused, half-apprehensive.

Danny opens the door. “Uh... Mr Governor. What a... uh, come in.” 

As greetings go, he's been way smoother, but stepping aside to let the drenched Acting Governor and the woman who is presumably his aide in and offering them a towel each more than covers the sheer incoherence of his opening.

“Commander McGarrett.” The Acting Governor's opening line is much more to the point – and actually succeeds in getting Steve's attention; he turns around at the sound of his name and then comes through to the living room. He still looks expressionless, but at least that's all it is.

“Mr Governor,” he says quietly. “What brings you here?”

“Wo Fat.”

Steve lifts his chin. “What about him?”

To his credit, Jameson's former Lieutenant stands his ground. “Do you believe he's the man responsible for killing Patricia Jameson?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” The Acting Governor takes a breath and glances briefly at his aide before continuing. “Say I were to offer you the means to track down and apprehend Wo Fat.”

Danny frowns. Five-0? Is he talking about Five-0? Chin and Jenna are clearly thinking the same thing, but they keep quiet.

This isn't their show.

In the centre ring, Steve inclines his head a little. “You're referring to the task force set up by your predecessor – your _late_ predecessor,” he adds.

“Yes. Can you find Wo Fat, and bring him to justice?”

“You've had two weeks,” Steve replies coolly. “Which means you're here because the people want answers, and you don't have any to give them. You're desperate.”

“Yes,” the Acting Governor admits. “Pat, for all her... indiscretions – was popular with the voters. Her murderer should be brought to justice. By any means necessary.”

Danny feels sick. Indiscretions? A woman who consorted with smugglers and blackmailers and _murderers_ for campaign donations and God knew what else, who had ordered Laura Hills' death and they were calling them _indiscretions_ now?

Steve's eyes narrow, just a fraction. “And those means would be...?” He's challenging the other man, Danny realises. Just like Chin had, when they'd handed over the recovered evidence.

“You,” the Acting Governor says simply. “I want you to find and apprehend Wo Fat. Just tell me what you need.”

“My team,” Steve says instantly. “I need _all_ of my team.”

“Miss Kalakaua -” the Acting Governor begins, but Steve cuts him off.

“ _Officer_ Kalakaua was following my orders to resolve a hostage situation involving not only a colleague, but her cousin. And if you had any other independent witnesses who could place either myself or Detective Williams alongside her... but you don't. You just have her.”

The silence in the room is deafening.

“ _Governor_ Jameson replaced the ten million dollars we stole to ransom Chin Ho Kelly,” Steve continues. “She admitted knowing all along that it was us, and that her complicity ran as deep. I believe you possess that recording.”

“What's your point, Commander?”

Steve locks eyes with the Acting Governor. “Let Officer Kalakaua go. Give me my team, on my terms – and I'll find Wo Fat.”

o o o o o

The terms are quickly agreed. The charges of grand theft against Kono are quietly dropped, and the appropriate paperwork is filed to secure her release from jail.

In exchange, she loses her badge.

Chin's been there before, and he's there one more time as she steps past the jail perimeter and crashes into his arms. He holds his cousin tight while she shakes and tries not to cry and strokes her hair until she's calm.

“Time to go to work,” he whispers, and offers her her car keys.

She looks at him with tired eyes and the fleeting ghost of a smile. “Let's get the son of a bitch.”

o o o o o

They meet back at Chin's house. Steve can count the number of times he's been here on one hand, but the team have made it into a makeshift HQ over the last fortnight or more, and he sees no need to take that away from them.

Jenna's completely at ease moving around the place and the closer he looks, the more evidence Steve can see that she's been spending her nights on Chin's couch, laptop and files close at hand. She clears him a space at one end of the couch and doesn't look put out when he chooses to stand.

Chin and Kono arrive an hour after Steve does. She and Jenna immediately embrace, and Kono comes over and hugs Steve briefly before he can stop her. He can see gratitude in her face, but neither of them say anything, and Kono takes the empty spot on the couch, closing her eyes and leaning back against the battered cushions.

Danny is the last to arrive. He's on the phone with someone – Steve's guess would be Rachel, given he has no evidence to support her being back in Hawaii yet – and mid-argument, which he quickly wraps up when he becomes aware of his audience. “So,” he says, shoving the phone in his pocket and feigning nonchalance, “where do we start?”

“First question,” Jenna replies. “Is Wo Fat still on the island?”

“Yes,” Steve says quickly. Everyone turns to look at him.

“He's right,” Chin adds. “Still assuming this is a power play, he'll want to stick around to see how we react.”

“Like ants under a magnifying glass,” Danny mutters. “I've always hated the kids who did that.”

Jenna raises her eyebrows but looks amused. “No comment.”

“So how do we find him?” Danny wonders. “Do we get to him or make him come to us?”

“Both,” Chin tells him. “Cover all angles – right, boss?”

Steve's intrigued by the exchanges taking place around him. Jenna's more assertive than he remembers; Chin's still the voice of quiet authority and Danny says whatever's on his mind but still keeps everyone on task. He catches Kono watching him and wonders if she's thinking the same things.

“Yeah,” Steve says, realising that Chin's waiting on him to answer. “We have to cover all the angles. Start with Sang Min,” he adds, a flash of memory coming to the fore. “He got close to Wo Fat once before – he might be able to do it again.”

Danny shudders, the reference triggering his own memories of their last encounter. “He's in protective custody – at least, he's supposed to be. How do we get to him?”

“Go knock on the door?” Chin suggests, and Danny smirks.

“Because that worked so well last time,” he replies.

Steve frowns. “HPD should be able to tell us where he's being kept, or at least get us a secure line to him.”

“On it,” Jenna says instantly, and attacks her laptop.

Steve's confusion has to be obvious, because Danny's the one who explains: “She's got sort of a direct line to the precinct's Captain now.”

“Not sort of,” Jenna mutters.

“Yeah, yeah.” Danny placates her with a smile.

“He's on our side?” Steve asks.

“Close enough,” Chin says.

“He wants to do the right thing by the right people,” Kono says. Her statement surprises everyone. “So long as we qualify as the right people, he's on our side.”

Chin smiles. “Nicely said.”

Kono waves a hand around.

“I've got the address,” Jenna announces a few minutes later. “And a contact number for the agent on protective detail.”

“We'll go both ways,” Steve decides. “Chin, start dialling. Danny, you're with me.”

“What about us?” Kono asks, waving a hand between her and Jenna.

“Other means of locating Wo Fat,” Steve tells her. “Electronic footprints, known associates, anything you can dig up.”

“On it, boss.”

Steve looks at Danny. “Let's go.”

o o o o o

It's still raining when Danny takes the wheel of the Camaro. He stays at least ten under the speed limit. He takes corners carefully and refuses to accelerate when the road opens up.

Steve doesn't say a word. He just leans back in the passenger seat and stares out of the window, taking in mile after mile of blurry island paradise. Danny's not sure what he's supposed to do. His conversational openers are severely limited - _“Hey, man, that jail thing kinda sucked, huh?” - “So I'm kind of dating my ex-wife and I'm gonna be a dad again.” - “Hey, didn't your dad send his kids away for their own safety? How'd that turn out?”_

He wants to know what Steve's going to do if they actually manage to find Wo Fat. At the same time he doesn't want to know, can't even think about the possibilities of a driven McGarrett with even more to avenge and maybe less to lose than before.

It scares him.

He doesn't have time to be scared. “I think we're here,” he announces. It's hard to tell through the rain, but this looks like the address Jenna had given them. “So how do you want to play it?”

Steve's already out of the car and marching up to the front door, completely oblivious to the soaking he's getting. Danny grabs the mac off the back seat and holds it over his head so he can catch up.

The door to the safe house is opened by an FBI agent, a mousy haired woman in her fifties who looks none too impressed at the intrusion. “Detective Williams, HPD,” Danny gets in quickly. “This is Steve McGarrett. We've got a few questions for your charge regarding a person of interest in -”

“I know who you are,” the agent replies coolly. She eyeballs them in turn then steps aside. “Second door on your left.”

“Why'd you do that?” Steve demands.

Danny blinks. “Why'd I do what?”

“Call yourself HPD.” Steve's expression doesn't so much as flicker.

“Because that's what I am until the transfer goes through.”

Steve's left eyebrow twitches. “The Acting Governor -”

“The Acting Governor wants headlines that will make him look good.” Danny sighs. “Of course we have to have this conversation now. Go. In.” He points at the door the FBI agent had directed them to.

Steve stares at him a couple seconds more before opening the door.

“Hey, hey – come on, lady, I -”

The sight of Sang Min, wearing a faded tracksuit ensemble and smelling like something out of an old folks' home, is not something Danny's going to forget in a hurry. He's also staring at Steve like he's one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“You supposed to be in jail, man!”

“They let me out,” Steve replies, surprisingly calmly. “You know why?”

Sang Min attempts a smile. “You're too good for the likes of prison?”

“Wo Fat set me up,” Steve says. “You found him once when you planted that bomb at his safe house. You're going to do the same again.”

“What? No! I don't do bombs any more. In case you hadn't noticed, I got the Feds breathing down my neck and -”

“Not the bomb,” Steve interrupts. “Wo Fat. I want to know where he is, and you're my best shot at finding out.”

“Man, you're desperate.”

“Maybe.” Steve shrugs. “But at least I'm not angry.”

“That supposed to scare me?” Sang Min challenges. “I get the news here. No more Five-0, no more magical immunity to do whatever the hell you want.”

Steve affects the shadow of a smile. “Game's changed.”

Sang Min stares at Steve, who stares back. Danny dimly remembers a time when something like this might have amused him. That seems like a lifetime ago.

o o o o o

“I just got a call from the Captain,” Chin announces. 

“Anything interesting?” Jenna asks.

“Only if you count the head of the FBI field office calling him asking why the hell there's a cop and an ex-convict terrorising one of their protected witnesses.”

“Steve's not an ex-con,” Jenna frowns.

Chin raises an eyebrow. “I don't think semantics was high on their list of things to be concerned about.”

“Unlike murderers,” Jenna mutters, mostly to her laptop.

“Nothing yet,” Kono informs Chin. She hasn't moved from her spot beside Jenna on the couch.

Yeah. Somebody as smart as Wo Fat isn't going to let himself get found by a traffic camera or leaving visible money trails. Chin wants to sigh, to bury his head in his hands and wait for this all to blow over. He has no idea how they're going to break it to the family that Kono's second career is effectively over, even though he's got his badge back. He can't see Danny choosing to stay in Hawaii when his family is in New Jersey, and if the task force is officially rescinded, Jenna and Steve have nothing tying them to the islands either. The Navy might take Steve back, and he's the kind of guy who'll let himself be forced to work back up to former glories again.

It all hangs on Wo Fat. Chin hates that kind of uncertainty.

His cell phone rings again, but there's no caller ID – just a number, and he shakes his head at Kono's enquiring look.

“This is Lieutenant Kelly.”

_“Good to hear your voice, brah.”_

“Kamekona?”

o o o o o

Steve pulls a cell phone – a cheap, nondescript model – out of his pocket and tosses it to Sang Min. He catches it automatically, then stares at it with obvious confusion, which is followed quickly by suspicion.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks. “Away from the constant surveillance and cops hanging off your every twitch?” He points at the phone. “Get me Wo Fat.”

“I don't exactly have him on speed dial,” Sang Min retorts. “Told you before, I want him dead. Pretty sure the feeling's mutual.”

Steve shrugs. “That could probably be arranged. Make the calls.”

Both Sang Min and Danny stare at Steve for that. Sang Min looks apprehensive, almost scared. Danny, on the other hand... he's not sure exactly what he's feeling right now, but it's nothing good. He thinks two weeks in jail shouldn't have been anywhere near enough to damage Steve – any further than normal, at least – but maybe it's the Wo Fat angle that's making him act like this. Danny hopes that's all it is.

Sang Min mutters something under his breath that could be a curse, then starts dialling. Danny whips out his own phone and texts Jenna. _Outgoing call from safehouse. Track._ He spares half a second to admire his improved texting skills, then focuses back on the matter at hand – Steve, to be precise.

He stares at Danny. “Sidebar,” he mutters, and steps to the far side of the room from Sang Min. Danny hesitates, then follows him.

“Who was that?” Steve asks, indicating the pocket where Danny's cell is.

“Jenna. To trace whatever calls he's about to make.” Danny stares up at him. “Why the micro-management?”

It's a low blow, and they both know it. “I saw you all at Chin's house earlier,” Steve eventually says. Behind them, Sang Min is spitting and arguing – in Chinese, Danny thinks, picking up a couple of words and phrases that he recognises.

He pulls his attention back to Steve. “So?”

“So -” Steve hesitates. His mask slips, and for the first time since he got out of jail Danny knows what his partner is thinking. 

He exhales loudly. “This – all of this, has been about getting you out of jail,” he says quietly but clearly. “The last two and a half weeks have been hell, okay, but we didn't quit on you, so don't you dare quit on us, do you hear me?”

There's a long pause. Then: “Loud and clear, Danno.”

“Good,” Danny says. For good measure, he jabs a finger in Steve's face. “Say anything else even tangentially related to the matter, and I will punch you in the face.”

“Got it,” Steve replies.

“If you two love birds are finished,” Sang Min interrupts them. He holds the phone up. “I got an address.”

“Whose?” Danny asks.

“Not my problem. But if you're crazy enough to go after Wo Fat again – you want to be going there.”

Danny resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and pull a face. “Just give us the damn address.”

o o o o o

Chin and Kono pull up outside the address Kamekona gave them. Chin still doesn't know where the big guy is, and just about managed to stop Jenna trying to trace the call, but he trusts the intel. With Wo Fat out of the picture, there's a chance things could be smoothed over with Kamekona's parole officer – not much of one, but a chance nevertheless – should she ever find out he's the one who supplied the weapon that killed Jameson.

It's a former nightclub in one of the seedier parts of the city. The windows are boarded up and there are foreclosure notices pasted to bolted doors. It's also a huge step down from the properties and buildings Five-0 have managed to associate with Wo Fat in the past.

Perhaps that's the point.

Kono takes one of the umbrellas and slips down the alley directly beside the club while Chin inspects the bolts. They're thick metal and securely fastened – and there's a thin layer of dust suggesting that nobody's been through the doors in several months.

“Nothing,” Kono reports a minute later. “Doors are padlocked and the fire escapes from the upper floors are unreachable. Are you sure this is the place?”

“Kamekona wouldn't lie.”

Kono doesn't look convinced. “He's got every reason to.”

“True,” Chin replies, “but it's not his style. He didn't have to call at all, could just have stayed underground for as long as it took -”

“Until what?”

Chin doesn't have an answer to that. Until Wo Fat is apprehended and dealt justice? Until Steve earns the man's forgiveness? Until what? Kamekona's capable of being invisible when he wants to – Chin hadn't had a clue about the weapons lock up until Danny had admitted knowing of its existence.

Kono jiggles her umbrella around a bit. “So what do we do?”

“Is there no other way inside?”

“There's a window a little way back from the side entrance.” Kono pauses for a moment. “Might be able to smash it open and get inside -”

“But the weather's an issue, not to mention the law.”

Kono shrugs. “So look the other way.”

“I'm not sure that's how this is supposed to work.” Chin tries to look reassuring. “Auntie would kill me if you ended up back in jail.”

“Yeah...” Kono turns around to consider the club's run-down exterior. “So the question really is, how much do you trust the big guy?”

o o o o o

Danny and Steve leave Sang Min, the safe house and the still-irritated FBI agent behind to chase down their new lead. Emphasis very much not on 'chase'. The rain is still pelting down and the traffic is still going slow and Danny is still not taking any chances.

Steve still hasn't challenged him for the Camaro's keys, but Danny figures baby steps.

“You can take a left here, it'll be quicker,” Steve announces, peering out of his window.

Maybe not.

Danny puts both hands on the wheel – ostensibly to stop himself from strangling Steve – and turns to look at him. “It's not quicker. There is no quicker way because everyone is moving at a snail's pace, because finally – finally, the people on this island have figured out that there are some obstacles to having a wonderful time and -”

“Danny.”

“What?”

“You're ranting.”

“Why, so I am.”

Steve frowns at him. “No, you're _ranting_. Earlier you implied you were still trying to transfer out of here. Why bother complaining if you're not going to stick around?”

Huh. He had said that. Danny takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to organise his thoughts.

“You also said that you weren't going to quit on me,” Steve continues. “So why are you transferring?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Danny asks. Then he notices the set in Steve's jaw. “Apparently we are. Right. Rachel and Grace are in Newark.”

“And you stayed behind.” Steve's speaking carefully now, like he's nervous about getting something wrong. “Until you leave.”

“What do you want me to say, Steve?” Danny demands. “That I'd keep my family away from their home - _our_ home because I can't stand not having you in my life? That I'd up and leave you to be with them?”

Steve's jaw sets again and finally – again – Danny gets it. “ _Ohana_ ,” he mutters. “Look, this may come as a surprise to you, but I really don't know what I'm doing, okay? Rachel and Grace back in my life was supposed to be everything I ever wanted. And – we can't stay here.”

“Why not?” Steve asks quietly, but the question's loaded and Danny knows it.

“Stan,” he says eventually. The bruise on his jaw faded after a couple of days, but it's not something he's going to forget any time soon. “And New Jersey is my home. Newark is where my _family_ is, Steve. God, I'd go anywhere to be where Grace is, you know that, but this...”

“Is everything you ever wanted,” Steve parrots. “Yeah, I get it.”

No, Danny doesn't think he does. “I'm sorry,” he says, as honestly as he knows how. “I really am.”

Steve doesn't say anything, and Danny's back to only guessing what's going through that thick SEAL head of his. He resumes staring out of the window for a couple more rain-soaked blocks while Danny tries not to incite a traffic accident.

Then Steve leans forward, frowning and tense. “Stop the car.”

“I – what?”

“Stop the car, Danny.”

Danny pulls over. “What is it?”

“We're being followed.” Steve reaches around the passenger side of the Camaro and frowns. “Where's the back up?”

“The back up what? Oh, the weapons? I cleared them out,” Danny retorts. “Because they had no place _in my car_!”

“C'mon, you've gotta have something.” Steve bends almost double and scrabbles underneath his seat. A few seconds later he pulls out a small black box.

Danny's on the verge of an aneurysm – he can feel it. How could he have forgotten to check under there as well? “Are those grenades? They better not be -”

“It's a sidearm, Danny.” And sure enough, Steve opens the box to pull out a Glock and spare bullets. Then he puts a hand on the door handle. “Are you coming?”

“Am I – what kind of stupid question is that?” Because Danny's already unbuckled and halfway out of his own seat and diving head first into hot tropical rain.

Steve weaves through the traffic, clearly looking for something, and Danny struggles to keep up with him. The rain's heavier than before, slowing him down, and he's not as confident running out in front of cars as Steve, even if they are moving slowly.

Steve's target turns out to be a black sedan several vehicles behind them. Danny hadn't seen it either on the way to or from the safe house, and he's happy enough to chalk Steve's noticing it to his military training.

Steve bangs on the right-side rear window twice just as Danny catches up to him. A few seconds later it rolls down to reveal a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit, and he doesn't look happy about having Steve in his face.

“Where is he?” Steve demands.

“I – I don't know what you're talking about!” the man protests.

There's a flash of – something – right on the periphery of Danny's vision and he grabs Steve by the shoulder. “Hey!”

Steve looks. There's another man is another expensive-looking business suit running through the rain in a completely new direction. Danny thinks _heliport_ but he's not sure why.

Steve's eyes narrow. Then he takes off at a run.

Danny chases him through the rain. His shirt is plastered to his back, he's pretty sure his tie's a lost cause and in another five minutes or so he'll be swimming in his shoes. He still keeps pace with Steve – doesn't know how – and curses the fact that his phone is in the car. As if he'd be able to use it outdoors anyway. 

Steve is completely unfazed by the elements and lengthens his strides to pull ahead. “Wo Fat!” he yells.

The man they're chasing stops in the middle of a street – that has a private airstrip signposted as being nearby, Danny notes distantly – and turns to face them.

It's him. Danny's only ever seen composite photos and an artist's sketch based on Steve's description from the restaurant, but it's Wo Fat.

Wo Fat raises a gun – just a sidearm, like Steve and Danny are carrying – smiles, and takes aim.

He shoots at Steve, but Steve is quicker. He ducks and rolls on the tarmac, leaps to his feet and raises his own gun.

“It's over!” Steve yells.

“No!” Wo Fat calls back mockingly. “We have only just begun.”

He fires again – and Steve stumbles.

Danny runs to his partner and tries to support him. Steve's holding his left arm in a tight grip and his t-shirt is soaking a sick shade of red. “It's just a graze,” he grits out. “Barely nicked the skin. Come on, we have to _go_!”

“Yeah, yeah, are you sure -” Danny looks back up the street – it's empty. “Yeah, come on.”

“He's going for the airstrip,” Steve mutters. “Can't let him get away.”

“I know, Steve, I know!” Danny holds onto Steve's elbow. “So let's get him.”

They share a look, and in that split second it's like it used to be – crazy odds and (their) lives on the line and all manner of Crazy McGarrett Shit About To Go Down. Steve grins and Danny grins back.

Then they run, together, towards the airstrip.

o o o o o

“This is the most ridiculous safe house I've ever seen.” Kono pokes a packing crate with the tip of her umbrella. 

Chin covers a smile. “I think that's the point, cuz.”

Kono snorts. “My jail cell was cosier than this place.” She stops at the look on Chin's face. “Sorry, I -”

“No,” Chin says, “you should talk about it. If you want to, I mean.”

“Yeah.” She smiles slightly. “Maybe not now, but yeah.”

Something bangs, and Chin whips around, gun raised automatically. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Chin frowns and steps forward onto the balcony overlooking the abandoned dance floor. There are some signs that people have been here recently – dust trails, mostly, and a couple of pieces of furniture that don't look quite as decrepit as their surroundings – but aside from him and Kono, there's nobody here now. “I thought I heard something. It sounded like...”

There's another bang. Muffled – like it's coming from a distance.

“Gunfire.” Chin turns back around. “We're in the wrong place.”

o o o o o

There's a black helicopter at the far end of the airport's single runway, though how it's going to take off in the rain Danny's not sure. From this distance and with the heavy rain, he can't tell if there's anyone in the cockpit. He also can't tell if there's anyone else here at all – he doesn't think he can see or hear employees or ground crew, but they could be muffled by the rain.

Steve's several metres ahead of him. His left shirt sleeve is completely soaked with blood.

Wo Fat stops again, halfway between Steve and the helicopter, and turns back. Danny catches up with Steve, and automatically puts a hand on his arm to support – or restrain – him.

“Give it up!” Steve calls out.

Wo Fat takes a step towards them. From here Danny can make out his grin. “This is quite the game we've been playing, Mr McGarrett. I hope you like the gift I sent you.”

Danny flashes back to the John Doe in the harbour – and wonders again if the man's identity has some relevance after all.

“Wo Fat!” Steve walks towards him, gun raised. “You are under arrest for the murder of Governor Patricia Jameson, and for accessory to the murder of Laura Hills.”

Wo Fat's grin widens. “Not today.”

“Five-0!” someone yells from behind him. It's Chin, gun raised.

From the other side of the runway, directly across from her cousin, Kono appears, holding up a gun as well. “Five-0,” she echoes with a half-smile. “Put the weapon down on the ground.”

Wo Fat moves like he's going to hold the gun up by its butt – and Danny raises his own weapon in response. Just ahead of him Steve's aim is steady.

Then the helicopter rumbles loudly into life, the rotors dispelling the heavy rain like a whirlpool. It distracts everyone, Chin and Kono turning around to find the source of the noise – it's enough time for Wo Fat to toss his gun on the ground and run for the helicopter.

Steve fires after him. His second bullet catches Wo Fat in the left leg, but it doesn't slow him down. Chin, Kono and Danny all fire and miss.

Wo Fat leaps up into the helicopter just as it starts to lift off from the wet tarmac. It lurches a couple of times and then veers down the runway. Danny grabs Steve and dives for one of the maintenance sheds and lands on his bad knee. Steve rolls over onto his back and empties his clip into the helicopter's rotors, but the bullets have no effect.

The helicopter gains elevation and disappears west.

“No, no, no, _no_!” Steve throws his gun onto the ground. 

Chin and Kono approach them. Chin helps Danny to his feet, while Kono retrieves Wo Fat's guns. 

“Call aviation, coastguard, whatever it takes,” Steve demands. “We can't let him just get away!”

“We'll find him,” Chin replies.

Danny leans on Chin's shoulder and tries to catch his breath. “How did you know where we were?”

“Jenna,” Kono calls over, and Danny stares at her. He's going to buy that woman flowers. No – a computer. The best damn supercomputer he can afford. He's going to call Father Julio back in Newark and see about getting her canonised.

Kono just grins back. “What were you two doing here?”

“Sang Min sent us to a safe house,” Danny explains. “This disused club -”

“- down by the wine bar?” Chin interrupts. “That's where we were.”

“Hey.” Danny looks at Steve. “Hey – the little weasel's intel was on the money – Steve? Steve?”

Steve turns to face the rest of them. His expression is dark, but there's something else as well – guilt, Danny realises. A dash of anger. But mostly resignation. “He got away.”

“So we'll get him next time,” Danny shrugs. “You, me, these two, mission control back on Chin's couch.”

Steve's eyebrow twitches. “Five-0?”

Danny knows it's not as easy as that. He can only hope Rachel will understand – this is his home now, and these crazy, crazy people? They're his family as well. “If the new boss will have us.”

Steve grins. “I think he can be persuaded.”

o o o o o

They move back into their old headquarters. Danny takes no small delight in directing unformed HPD officers carrying boxes of former evidence to various offices and assigned corners until the contents can be sorted out.

Chin and Jenna have commandeered the touch-screen table and are bickering playfully as they re-establish Five-0's servers and links to every database imaginable.

Kono's perched on the desk in her office, talking the phone to someone – judging by the smile on her face, Danny thinks it's either her mom or that geek of hers down in Forensics.

Steve appears a little while later, along with the Acting Governor. They're deep in conversation, and Steve's body language isn't setting off warning bells, so Danny leaves them to it.

His cell phone rings, and he smiles as he answers the call. “Hey, Monkey.”

_“Daddy! Mommy and I are at the airport. She said I could call before we get on the plane.”_

“She did? That's brilliant. Have you got your MP3 player and book for the flight?”

_“Uh huh, and Grandma made me take lots of pictures of everyone so you can see them!”_

“That's wonderful,” Danny says thickly. “Hey, can you put your mom on quickly?”

_“Okay!”_

_“Danny,”_ Rachel says.

“Hey. Listen, I -” Danny looks around at his team. “I just wanted to say, before you, you know -”

 _“I get it,”_ Rachel tells him gently. _“Whatever happens, we'll work it out.”_

Danny really, really wants that. He thinks it's all he's ever wanted. “Yeah,” he says. “But thank you.”

_“Our gate's just been called – we'll see you when we land.”_

“I'll be there,” Danny promises, and Rachel hangs up.

“Hey,” Steve says, and Danny jumps.

“A little warning, McGarrett? Seriously, don't make me put a bell on you.”

A shadow of a smirk appears on Steve's face. “Have fun trying. Look – everything's going pretty smoothly here -” And Danny can only agree. Steve and Kono have been re-sworn in as officers of the law, Steve's Navy commission remains intact, the Acting Governor's been pulling in mixed reviews with a tinge of positive since the reformation of Five-0 was announced, and Jenna sent off her resignation to the CIA this morning. She's sticking around – they're _all_ sticking around. Wo Fat's at the top of their brand new Most Wanted list.

It's even stopped raining.

“But what?” Danny asks.

Steve hesitates. “There's something I think I need to do – will you come with me?”

“Of course. Oh, one more thing.” Danny fishes a cell phone out of his pocket and hands it to Steve. “Since your old one is probably never going to see the light of day.”

“Thanks, man.” Steve starts flipping through the menus.

“You might want to start by calling your sister,” Danny says pointedly.

“I spoke to Mary this morning,” Steve replies.

“Are you good?”

“I think we are.”

“Good. Now, what's this thing you want help with?”

o o o o o

Steve and Danny stand at the gate to a small semi-detached bungalow. The outside of it doesn't look particularly remarkable, but Steve learned a long time ago not to judge anything by its cover. He glances at Danny, then pushes the gate open and walks up to the front door.

He knocks twice. A few minutes later the screen door opens, and a woman comes into view to open the front door. She looks young enough to be in high school, and there's a baby balanced on her hip, a little boy who grins up at Steve.

“Can I help you?” the girl asks.

Steve hesitates. “I'm Commander McGarrett, this is Detective Williams; we're with Five-0. Are you Christina Tsang?”

“Yes...” She looks between Steve and Danny a few times, then sighs. “This is about Casey, isn't it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve replies.

She shakes her head. “Is he dead?”

“No.” Not yet, but the way the kid's going... Steve glances at Danny briefly. “Can we come in?”

“No,” Christina replies. “I'm sorry, Commander, but Casey's all out of second chances. The only person who can save him is himself.”

Steve glances at the baby. “Is this his son?”

She tightens her hold on the boy. “Yes – and no, he doesn't know. He's been in and out of the system for months, and I'm tired of trying to clean up his mess. I've got my family to look after.” She smiles down at her son, who beams back.

“I've spent time with Casey,” Steve says quietly. “He's not a bad kid at heart – just out of options. Visiting hours are this afternoon – promise me you'll think about it?”

Christina closes her eyes briefly. “I'll try,” she says eventually.

Steve thinks that's all he's going to get out of her – part of him knows he's lucky to have got this much.

“Thank you,” he says. “Come on,” he adds to Danny.

“Do you think it'll work?” Danny asks, once they're back in the car and Steve's driving back to headquarters.

“I don't know,” he admits. “I hope so.”

**the end**


End file.
